#but i think i’m already kind of good sometimes

[toiletclown]

breathless. (part two.)

spencer agnew x gn!reader

mostly fluff, a little angst.

part two of probably 5/6 (i can't stop writing this fic)

summary: to 'train' for an upcoming guitar hero stream, you head to spencer's for the first time in weeks. the tension is thick, and you have to call your best friend, angela, for some input. your feelings were growing to lengths you weren't sure you could handle -- but what other choice do you have?

word count: 2251 (7000+ remaining)

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

It was not fine. The AC in Spencer’s apartment had broken sometime between him going into the office and him coming back home. He sent you a text to let you know, and even offered to bring all his stuff to yours if that was easier, but you knew how many cords and controllers that entailed and told him it was fine, you’d just wear something you’d be comfortable in.

However, you were not prepared for just how warm his apartment was. You came over in a cropped baby tee and some comfy shorts, but you had worn a very thin cardigan over the shirt, hoping it would be thin enough you could keep it on. But alas, the world was constantly against you, and about fifteen minutes into your visit you knew you had to shed the layer. The windows were open but there was no breeze, and the standing fan and ceiling fan were working overtime. 

So here you were, standing in Spencer’s living room, attempting to hide your Guitar Hero skills while also trying to hide your discomfort. Honestly, you weren’t even sure why you were uncomfortable. It’s Spencer. He’s seen you in worse. At least this outfit is cute, right? When you finally pulled yourself out of your thoughts, you realized you were beating Spencer in 1v1 by a country mile. What the hell was he doing? You knew he was good at this game, and despite you purposefully missing every few notes and hitting the whammy bar much too late, he was still way, way behind.

You paused the game and turned to look at him. You had been standing in front of the couch, since it was a little harder to play the guitar when sitting down. He, however, was sitting on the couch in gym shorts he had no right to be wearing (They were so short that if he moved one inch the wrong way there would be a problem. Why did he pick such slutty little shorts??) and a Zelda triforce logo tank top. His arms were on full display, along with his gorgeous legs, and you had to admit your words got caught in your throat when you saw him. You hadn’t really looked at him with much precision when you arrived because you were more focused on how warm the apartment was, but now, seeing him with his leg balanced on his knee and the guitar lazily draped in his lap, you were borderline salivating.

“You okay, Peach?” He always called you that, since you had a penchant for snacking on peaches and preferred to play as Princess Peach whenever the two of you played Mario Party or Mario Kart. He never let it slip at work, but a part of you wanted him to. Just to see how someone else would react to it. Would they hear it as a platonic, long-term-friendship type of nickname, or would they pick up on a subtle romantic vibe beneath that? Was it crazy to want that romantic connotation? 

“Oh, yeah, I’m okay. Are you, though? I’m not very good at this and I’m still beating your ass. You good over there?” You willed your blush away at his nickname for you, knowing he, realistically, didn’t have any romantic implications behind it. You knew why he called you that, and it made sense. Let’s not think too hard on it, okay? No need to make a romantic mountain out of a friend-shaped mole hill.

Spencer sighed, opening and closing his mouth a few times before finding his words. “Yeah, sorry. The heat is kind of making my brain blank out, I guess.” He stood, pulling the string on his ceiling fan to move it from medium to high speed. You were silently wondering why it wasn’t already on high, but chose not to question him. You also knew he was lying. You’ve been friends with Spencer (on top of having severe unrequited feelings for him) for far too long, and you knew him better than he knew himself. You knew all of his tells, and currently, he was avoiding eye contact and picking at his right thumb, which he always did when he was nervous and/or lying.

You sat down next to him, still leaving some space due to the heat. You were both quite physically affectionate with one another, but lately you had both pulled back in that regard, though neither of you wanted to say anything about it. While he had basically stopped being touchy-feely altogether, you still attempted that contact sometimes. He didn’t react the way he used to.

“Spence, honey, I’ve known you far too long for you to lie to my face. What’s going on?” You voiced your concern with a gentle hand on his thigh, close enough to his knee that it didn’t come across wrong, but also far enough away from his knee that you felt a whoosh in your stomach. It was too late to move it now without him calling you on it, though, so you left it there.

He took a deep breath, seemingly gearing up for a word vomit. But instead he shook his head. “Sorry, I’m just dealing with some… personal stuff, I guess, and I was lost in my head. We can get back to it, I’m sorry, Y/N.” He patted your hand with his, before moving to grab the guitar again and start the game back up. You pulled your hand away, burning, and decided you needed to leave. 

“Oh, it’s… it’s okay. I’ll head out, leave you to your thoughts. You can always text me if you need me, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow?” You stood to start gathering your stuff, and you felt Spencer’s eyes on your back as you bent over to pet one of his cats. The cropped tee was definitely showing off more of you than he had seen before, so it was only natural for him to look. But you wondered what he was thinking, too.

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow. Sorry again about the AC being broken. Maintenance should be coming by soon,” Spencer supplied, walking with you to the door. “Hopefully I won’t have to sweat to death for much longer.”

You both laughed, and you held your arms out for a hug. Spencer hesitated, before returning the hug and reassuring you that he’ll see you tomorrow. You offered him a goodbye and told him you loved him, like you both did every time you parted. You didn’t miss the fact that he didn’t say it back this time.

//

Angela, please help me. You didn’t know who to talk to about this. Your thoughts had been a bubbling mess for hours at this point, and you couldn’t talk to Spencer, and you weren’t quite ready to talk to Courtney about it. Courtney should be your go-to about this situation, but you weren’t sure how to broach it. Hey, you went from coworkers to friends to lovers. How do I do that? wasn’t exactly the best icebreaker to get into the conversation. Angela had heard you vent many times before, and although you never, ever named Spencer in the conversations, you had no doubt that little Italian gremlin knew you were talking about him. Angela was very intuitive and just because you leave a few details out and refuse to use his name in conversation, that doesn’t mean she can’t pick up on everything else. Especially since Erin was clearly picking up on it. Among others.

What an ominous text to receive at 1am. What’s up babe? 

Holy fuck, was it that late already? You checked the time and sure enough, it was 1:03am. You’d been in your head for far longer than you thought.

Oh fuck I didn’t even realize it was that late lol my bad queen :(( we can hold off till tmr it’s nbd!

NOPE you’re not pulling that shit, ft me rn

You sighed, but it was near impossible to say no to Angela, so you turned your desk lamp on and hit the FaceTime button. You needed to get this out of your system soon anyway, it was starting to eat at you. With other people seeing it clear as day you felt as though you should probably work your feelings out before Spencer realized.

“Hello there my gorgeous best friend, what’s on your mind?” Angela was clearly in bed, face lit only by her phone and the fairy lights she kept strung up around her room. “Is it Spencer?”

Your face went pale at her question, which answered her for you. “Oh, so it is Spencer! Did you ask him out? Did he ask you out? When’s the wedding? Can I sing at the reception? Oh, that might be weird, right? What would I even sing? Oh, I know–”

“Angela.”

“Sorry, go on.”

She let you ramble on for a few minutes, starting from the beginning. When you were hired and instantly bonded with him. When the movie nights turned to movie sleepovers and the game nights turned to game weekends. When he got promoted to cast, then you got promoted, and suddenly your friendship felt different. The first Erin Dougal meme, the second Erin Dougal meme, and finally, whatever the fuck had happened tonight. The way he was distant, but not cold. The way you could feel his eyes on you, and the two times you caught him “lost in his thoughts” as Erin had phrased it. His lack of response when you told him you loved him tonight. That was what hurt the most. He had never left you hanging when you said it, and he said it more often than you did. At lunch, on set, while watching him play Fortnite. You always reassured each other in every aspect of life. And suddenly, it was like that reassurance and friendship was going dormant.

“I just don’t know what I did wrong, I guess? It seems like out of nowhere we lost our friendship and we’re back to being acquaintances, in a way. He’s not as touchy anymore, and he gets weird when I am. He rarely invites me over anymore. I haven’t stayed the night in months. And he didn’t say he loved me before I left tonight. He’s never not said it back. And like, why? What changed? What did I do wrong?” Once your word salad was out and in the open, Angela sat for a minute, thinking on how she wanted to respond.

“Okay, I have a question before we proceed.”

“Ask away.”

“Do you want me to respond as your best friend or as your coworker?”

“Is there a difference?”

“Only slightly.”

“Then as my best friend, please.” You took a breath in, knowing with this selection came some harsh words. If she was responding as your coworker she would be nothing but kind, but with the best friend response you knew she was going to drag you, hard. But at this point, you needed that, didn’t you?

“Y/N, my sunshine, my flower, my angel. He’s pulled back significantly as of late because he thinks that his feelings for you are one-sided.”

“His–”

“Don’t interrupt me, you clown!” 

“Okay!” You laughed along with your friend, knowing that this conversation was going to be hard but it was necessary.

“He sees all these things in a different light because, somewhere in the timeline of your friendship, he got it in his head that you would never reciprocate his feelings. So now, all those things he used to enjoy, almost hurt now. Your touch on his skin is no longer comforting, because he wants more. And he doesn’t think he’s capable of getting that. He’s scared. He doesn’t want to lose you, but he also is having trouble coping with the fact that he doesn’t know if he can ‘just be friends’ with you. Spencer might have held his façade quite well for quite some time, but it’s cracking now and he’s scared. He doesn’t want to lose his best friend, but he also doesn’t want to be strictly friends anymore. He wants to love you openly, and he thinks he can’t do that.”

“Jesus, Angela. How do you even know all this?” You were absorbing her words, letting them flow through you. Spencer thinks his romantic feelings for you are one-sided? Spencer has romantic feelings for you? What the hell is going on, man?

“Because three and a half minutes before you texted me, he also texted me. I was basically reading his text out loud, word-for-word. And before you yell at me for breaking his trust, you are my best friend and I am legally obligated to tell you everything, just like you are legally obligated to tell me everything. Even though you seem to think I can’t parse that the guy you’ve been obsessing and gushing over is Spencer despite your obvious phrasing. You're not as slick as you think, babe.”

You sat in silence for a moment, really trying to let everything sink in. Your feelings weren’t one sided. You had a chance with him. He didn't suddenly dislike you, or hate you, or not enjoy your company. It was just harder now. And that, that you understood, quite thoroughly.

“Ang, how do I unfuck this?”

“I already have a plan for you, Peach.”

You groaned, “Okay, that’s not fair!”

“I know, I know. So here’s what you're going to do…”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

taglist: @lokidokieokie (thanks for being my first ever taglister hehe)

[sugar-coat-it]

The one where Matty reads smut to you

I don't know what to call this but it was fun to write! Shout out Matty reading part of 50 Shades of Grey in like 2015

Fem! Reader

Contains: dom! Matty, him making fun of her shitty romance novel, Matty reading smut to her, recreation of book scene, fingering in front of a mirror, blink and you miss it pussy spanking, praise (good girl)

WC: ~2.8k

—-------------------------------

Matty discovers his girlfriend’s secret reading habits and can’t resist recreating one of the scenes. 

—-------------------------------

You can feel Matty’s eyes on you without even having to look up from the pages in your hands. A smile twitches at your lips. It’s like a little game, pretending you can’t feel his gaze drinking you in, admiring the way the sunlight streams through the window. The way the light graces you, bathing your skin in glowing warmth. For a man who prides himself on his talent with words, he finds himself speechless. He doesn’t mind it one bit. 

You’d been immersed in your book for hours. Admittedly, it’s not high-brow reading in the slightest. But when life is so serious, sometimes a shitty, steamy romance novel is exactly the remedy you need. Sometimes, you like to disappear into the dynamics of someone else’s life where things are simple and clean-cut. Predictable.

Unhurried, Matty pushes his weight off of the doorframe, padding across the floor to you as you lay on the couch, your book comfortably resting in your lap. He leans down, his necklace dangling in front of your face as he brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. Your eyes flicker away from the pages when you feel his lips press to your forehead with such tenderness that your heart swoons. You listen to his soft hum as you reach up to cup his face, your fingers naturally finding their place against his jaw. 

“Hi, baby. What have you got there?” he says softly, trailing a hand down your arm absentmindedly. 

“Just a silly romance book,” you answer, marking your page before handing him the book. 

He takes it from you, motioning for you to scoot over on the sofa to make room for him. Curled up at your side, Matty runs his finger down the spine of the book, observing the cover with a squinted, analytical stare. You already know he’s going to have plenty of opinions just from the art on the front alone. 

“You’re not gonna like it. I’m sorry, it’s not philosophical, foreign literature,” you joke, causing him to scoff. 

“Oh god. Don’t start with me, miss,” he murmurs, his eyes flickering over the title, “Well, I certainly don’t read about kissing and stuff but I’m not above trashy reading sometimes. I suppose I always thought these books were for grandmothers and like, desperate housewives.”

“They’re not just for grandmas and housewives!” 

“Alright, alright. Forgive me,” Matty chuckles, kissing your shoulder apologetically, “What’s this one about then?”

You give him a look. An untrusting one. Matty looks at you right back, cocking an eyebrow.

“You’re gonna laugh at me.” 

“No, I won’t. I swear. Tell me.”

Sighing, you watch as he cracks open the book, beginning to leaf through the pages, smirking to himself as he scans over words with eager eyes. He nudges you with his elbow expectantly, waiting for a synopsis of the story that feels increasingly dumber and more cliche the more you think about how to explain it. But, damn it, you’re allowed to read something silly and romantic in your free time if you want!

"She's a princess and he's the knight bound to protect her. He's kind of roguish, and she's never really experienced anything, she's bound to the castle most of the time but she’s still a badass. They fall in love even though they know they can't,” you mutter, watching his smirk grow wider, clearly amused. “Ah, I see. Classic, cheesy, forbidden romance shit,” he nods, glancing over at you with a glint in his eyes (one that means he’s about to say something stupid). “Is the knight hot? Does he have a big sword?”

“Yeah. Huge,” you snort, making Matty cackle in response, flipping through random pages, only making you feel more on edge. You should survive this as long as he doesn’t come across a few particular parts…

He scans over a passage, his brows furrowing slightly as he goes, seeming thoroughly unimpressed by the author. You listen as he mutters the words to himself under his breath, practically being able to see how he’s mentally tearing it to shreds as his eyes catch over the sappy dialogue and paragraphs of woeful yearning. 

“Christ. How many times is she going to use the word ‘longing’? This is… terrible.”

“Would you stop being a critic for once? It’s sweet,” you protest, finding the pining endearing. You’ve always been a slow-burn lover at heart. 

Matty groans, yet he continues to read on, underwhelmed but curiously hooked at the same time. Just as you’d begun to lay your head on his chest to relax, he lets out a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners with mirth. 

“Oh, he’s not just protecting her, he’s ‘trailing his calloused hands down her curves, his hands rough from years of wielding his sword’,” he reads before making an exaggerated moan, fanning himself with his hand dramatically. 

You feel your stomach drop. You know exactly what chapter he’s reading from and it only gets more indecent from there. You pick your head up, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as, to your horror, he begins to read directly from the pages. 

“‘Her breasts heaved as he unhooked her corset, his rough hands against her pale skin as he lays her on the silken sheets’. Wow, I take it all back, this is better than I thought, you didn’t say they fuck.”

You sputter, realizing you should have known better than to let him get his hands on your novel. You’re never going to hear the end of this now. God help you, the look on his face is absolutely wicked. 

"But it's not just physical between them! He loves her more than anything and wants to show her what she’s been deprived of,” you shake your head, trying to snatch the book back to no avail, “You don’t get it, it’s for the girls, Matty.”

Matty rolls his eyes, chuckling at the heated scene that is unfolding on the pages before him, holding the book out of your reach. “Sweetheart, you can defend it however you want, this is absolutely filthy. You’re sitting here, casually reading pornography. Doesn’t matter if it’s ‘girly’.”

He leafs through the pages with the intent to get you thoroughly worked up, jabbing his finger at the page when he finds a particularly lewd section. He’s having far too much fun with this and he knows it.

“I mean, seriously, listen to this part. ‘His stare was piercing through her as he let her feel the stiffness of his pulsing member.’ Babe,” he chuckles in disbelief, “Horrid word choice there, so unsexy. I mean, just say dick.”

“Matty! Are you seriously doing this right now? Give it back,” you protest with heated cheeks, trying to reach for the novel just for Matty to hold it further away from you. 

“No, no. We’re just getting to the good parts now, lemme see,” he grins wolfishly, curling up closer to you so his lips are brushing against your ear, “‘Maneuvering her to sit in front of the tall, gilded mirror, the knight slips her silk nightgown over her waist. With his fingers on her delicate jaw, guiding her gaze forward, he lets his opposite hand smooth down her body…’”

You can feel the air between you change as the detailed, obscene words begin to slip from his lips with ease. He has one hand holding the book while the other slides over your waist, stirring warmth inside of you as he gently moves his fingers back and forth. His tone has dropped down to a low, sultry murmur, a shiver racing down your spine at the slight rasp in your ear, the hairs standing up at the back of your neck. The tips of your ears burn every time he emphasizes dirtier words, rubbing little circles against your hip as he drawls to you about how the knight is tearing off her panties. The chapter is salacious enough as is, but the way he reads it to you makes it feel downright foul. 

“... ‘She could feel an unfamiliar pressure building inside of her as he slowly curled his calloused finger upward, his thumb rubbing in tight circles against her heat, staring at her through the mirror’s reflection’,” Matty whispers, his breath hot, fanning against your skin.

He’s having a harder time focusing on the words when he can feel you getting increasingly warmer as you cling to his side, the heat radiating off of your skin from beneath your clothes. He doesn’t miss the way your hips squirm slightly, the crackling tension thickening the air between you as he reads. Matty can’t help but glance at you periodically, the unmistakable lust in your lidded eyes making him ache. 

You can’t take it any longer, it feels like your entire body is buzzing with need, warmth coursing through you endlessly, pooling deep inside of you. You cut him off mid-word by turning your head and pressing your lips to his heatedly. Matty moans into your mouth, letting the book tumble to the floor as he moves to roughly grasp your hips with both hands, pulling you flush against his frame. 

“Dirty girl,” he mumbles against your lips, kissing you with enough fervor to make your head spin. 

Your hands cling to his shirt, letting his tongue slip past your lips as his eager fingers roam, groping and feeling you as he pleases. Your breath shudders as Matty pulls away to mouth under your jawline, alternating between heated kisses and nips of his teeth. 

“Does it get you hot when you’re reading it, babe? Thinking about the knight fucking his princess?” he rasps, grabbing a handful of your ass. 

You can only whimper in response, your head tilting back to give Matty more room to continue his loving assault on your neck, kissing and sucking at your sensitive skin. 

“Yeah, I bet it does,” he mumbles, laving his tongue over a faded love bite just above your collarbones. 

Matty slides his hands to the backs of your thighs, scooping you up with your legs around his waist. As he carries you from the couch to your bedroom, you can’t resist grinding a little against the front of his gray sweatpants, feeling him twitch beneath the fabric. He digs his fingers into your hips, you’re not quite sure if it’s as a warning or to encourage you. You love it either way. 

Just as you think he’s about to lay you down on the crisp sheets of your bed, Matty lowers you to the ground in front of your floor-length mirror, pulling you to sit in his lap with your legs spread, just like in the book. He taps your thigh, signaling for you to lift your hips, allowing him to slide off your pajama shorts. 

With an approving sigh, Matty smooths his hands out over your inner thighs, making a shiver skitter down your spine with tingling warmth. He coos, settling his chin on top of your shoulder as he stares at your body through the mirror. 

“Aw, you really liked me reading to you, baby. Look at yourself. You’re soaked through,” he admires, parting your legs wider to allow you a look at your dampened panties.

Matty skims his hand up your thigh with a murmur of “don’t look away” as he starts to feel over the darkened fabric of your underwear. You shudder, your lashes fluttering at the sensations that begin to stir at just the light brush of his calloused fingertips. You can feel your cheeks flush brighter at this new perspective, watching the two of you in the reflection of the mirror, seeing not only Matty’s reactions but also your own. You get to see the expressions that Matty loves so dearly when he’s making you fall apart, telling you how pretty you are. You do look pretty like this, with your skin flushed and your chest heaving with desire. 

Agonizingly slowly, he presses two fingers against your panties, rubbing in little circles over your clit just to make you squirm in his lap. Matty kisses from the top of your shoulder to right under your ear, his breath hot as he watches you from the corner of his eye. His eyes are intense, darkened with urges.

Steadily, he hooks his fingers under the fabric, sliding the soaked material to the side with a groan that rumbles against your back. A gasp is ripped from your lips as he parts you with his fingers, exposing you to him with frustratingly gentle pressure. You can tell he’s restraining himself tonight. Even though he’s itching to have you writhing, he slowly dips his thumb into your pooling arousal, his digit slick as he finds your clit with practiced ease. 

Your eyes roll at that feeling of first contact, sensations coursing through you as you get your first lick of relief. Matty traces firm circles, his other hand moving to grasp your breast, thumbing at your nipple over your shirt. 

“Matty, faster, please,” you pant, your voice wavering with need.

“Shh, this is how it went in the book, hm? He was so gentle with her, isn’t that right?” he mutters, dismissing the way your hips jump, aching for friction. You can’t stand it. He’d whined about how awful your book was, but now he’s treating it like gospel, refusing to stray from how the scene was written. 

Once he’s satisfied with how long he’s been lazily circling your clit, Matty picks up the pace just enough to make you whimper, still in control of your pleasure. His brows pinch together as your hips rock heedlessly on top of him, both of your eyes glued to his hand between your thighs. You can feel him, stiff and twitching beneath his sweats as the heat continues to bloom between you. Slowly, he starts to sink one finger inside of you, curling it just so. It’s obscene to watch.

“That’s it. Show me how much you like it,” Matty whispers, dragging his lower lip along your earlobe, “What does he do next?” 

“What?” you mumble, too caught up in the feeling of your brain melting down your spine to understand the question. Matty smirks with the satisfaction of rendering you wonderfully dumb. 

“In the book, darling. What does he do to her next?” he finishes, landing a firm spank on your cunt, relishing in your cry, “You didn’t let me finish readin’ ‘cause you got impatient, didn’t you, sweet girl? Always just gagging for me.”

You try and gather yourself enough to speak as Matty presses on your clit, your head lolling back against his shoulder. He moves his hand from your tits to your inner thigh, holding open your trembling legs in his secure hold.

“C’mon, talk to me,” he says with a kiss to your neck, encouragingly rubbing his thumb against your soft thigh, “I know you remember.”

“He… he has her look into her own eyes as he makes her cum.”

Matty whistles lowly, impressed, sounding like he’s sorry he didn’t think of doing that to you first. He reaches for your chin, grasping it to tilt your head down, watching you meet your own stare in the mirror. 

“Good girl, stay like that for me,” he murmurs, keeping his fingers splayed across your jaw. 

You watch as your eyes widen the moment Matty begins to swiftly move his thumb, pumping his finger in and out of you. Your brows furrow with a shuddering moan, your mouth dropping open. You grasp his wrist with urgency, feeling yourself approach the edge almost mortifyingly quickly as you pant and writhe on top of him.

“See how pretty you look when you’re about to cum? I fucking love that look. I live for it,” he grins, “That’s it, just let it happen, my love.” 

He tightens his hold on your jaw, reminding you to watch your face as you feel it wash over you in waves of relief through your whole body, your expression contorting with pleasure.

“Ah, fuck!” you cry, listening to him mutter breathy sighs of “Good fucking girl” and “Yeah, that’s right” in your ear. 

Once you go slack against his body, Matty withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips to suck them clean, obscenely sliding his tongue between them while you catch your breath. 

“I reckon I did it better than him, what do you think?” he smirks, his voice muffled around his digits. You shake your head hazily as he lets go of them with a wet popping sound.

“You’re insufferable…”

“You love me. You looove me so badly,” he sings, grasping your sides lovingly as he presses his lips to your cheek.

You do love him. Badly. Even if you’re never going to hear the end of how terrible your book choices are.

[candycandy00]

Finding Love in a Zombie Apocalypse - A JJK Interactive Romance Fanfic Round 2

Read the details about this event here!

During a zombie apocalypse, you meet a group of seven handsome men. Which one will you choose to be your survival/romantic partner?

Vote for the man you want to be eliminated! The man with the most votes will not be killed off in the story, but he will be removed from all future polls and his branching story will be closed off!

Reminder: Vote for the man you DO NOT want to survive with! You are voting someone OUT!

For the first two rounds, I’m not naming the men. You can probably figure out who is who, but that’s part of the fun! I’m doing it this way to encourage readers to vote based on the scenario rather than just automatically voting out their least fave character. Feel free to make guesses about who each man is!

In Round 1, Man #1, Choso, was eliminated!

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!

You’ve decided to stick with this group for the time being. They’re a nice mix of strong, smart, and caring. None of them come across as creepy or make you uncomfortable, which is saying a lot considering it’s a group made up entirely of men relatively close to your age. 

You spend the evening gathering what supplies you need into a duffel bag you found in the store’s rather scant sporting goods section. At night, one of them insisted you sleep in the stock room and keep the key until morning. He really was very considerate, and none of the others objected. 

The next day, someone makes coffee in the break room. You don’t know which one did it, but it’s the first cup you’ve had in over a week and tastes delicious. With foam cup in hand, you walk over to the front entrance to check the situation outside, only to find the man who called out to you yesterday keeping watch.

Man #1: Choso (Eliminated in Round 1)

He’s standing near the door, slightly to the side, still as a statue until you approach. 

“Want me to bring you some coffee?” you ask, taking a sip from your cup. 

He smiles at you. “Thanks, but I had some already.”

You gesture toward the entrance. “Anything new going on out there?”

“No, just a dozen or so zombies roaming around,” he replies. “They come close to the door sometimes, but with these tinted windows they can’t see much of what’s inside.”

You hadn’t realized they were tinted until he mentioned it, but you suppose that’s why everything looks so dreary outside. 

As you stare out the window, you notice something in the distance. You squint your eyes, trying to make out if it’s just another zombie or something else. As you watch, the figure picks up speed, breaking into a run. 

“Look! There’s someone out there!” you shout, pointing to the figure fleeing toward the store. 

The man beside you looks out through the glass door. “It’s definitely a living person!”

Behind the figure, a large group of zombies, perhaps the biggest group you’ve seen, is slowly giving chase. The figure stumbles, hits the ground, and you feel your heart race. You’ve witnessed zombie attacks before, but it’s always disturbing. And you can’t help thinking that this could easily have been you yesterday. 

You want to open the door and beckon the figure, but that’s not your call to make. You’re a guest with this group, and you don’t have the right to put their safety at risk. 

Thankfully, the kind hearted man beside you makes that choice. He flings the door open and calls out, “Hey! Run this way! To the grocery store!” 

The figure looks up, and from this distance they appear to be a young man. He scrambles to his feet and breaks into another run, a desperate dash for the store. 

You and the man both yell out to him, encouraging him to hurry and keep going. Just as he runs through the door, two zombies that must have been close to the entrance follow him in, shambling into the store.

Man #2:

Before anyone else can react, the large, imposing man who tore the zombies off you yesterday runs by you. With his bare hands he picks up the first zombie by the neck and literally throws it outside. Then he delivers a devastating punch to the second zombie’s head, knocking it clean off its shoulders. 

You yelp in surprise, having never seen someone kill a zombie in such a way before. Someone closes the door and locks it, but the herd of zombies definitely saw the young man run inside, because they’re heading straight for the store. 

Backing away from the door, you glance at the man who took care of the two zombies. “Do you think the glass will hold?”

He doesn’t seem the least bit scared. “Probably not against a horde like that.”

“What should we do?” you ask, trying not to sound panicked as the zombies close in. 

He grins. “You should run when they break in. I’ll tear the fuckers apart.”

Uncertain whether that statement is comforting or alarming, you turn to look at the newcomer. He’s a teenager, probably around sixteen, and he’s panting to catch his breath. 

You walk over to him. “Are you alright?”

He looks up at you, and his face is twisted in horror. “I’m so sorry!” he yells, tears in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have come in here!”

“It’s alright,” you tell him, reaching your hand out to pat his shoulder. “We’ll figure something out. We’ll-“

He swats your hand away. “Don’t! I… I’ve been…” his voice dies in his throat, and he pulls up the sleeve of his shirt, displaying a messy bite wound.

You inhale sharply, your heart sinking at the sight. He’s just a kid! “How long ago?” you ask. You’ve heard rumors that severing a limb with a bite will stop the spread of the virus, but it has to be done quickly. 

“Yesterday,” he answers. 

The man who fought the zombies steps up beside you. “Too long,” he says, his eyes narrowed as he looks at the wound. “We should probably throw him out. He’s no good to us.”

You look at him incredulously. “We can’t do that!”

Man #3:

The man you spoke to yesterday who seemed like a leader, who was clearly a planner, walks over. He looks at the boy, then at you. “We’ll need to discuss this,” he says. 

“Discuss what? What are the options here?” you ask him. “Let him stay or toss him out there to be eaten alive?!”

The man’s smooth expression doesn’t change. “Those aren’t the only options. We could tie him up, lock him in the break room, or even give him a quick and painless death.”

You feel your outrage subsiding. Those sound much more reasonable. You’re surprised he can think so rationally in this situation. “Okay. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

He smiles that same charming, not-quite-genuine smile he gave you yesterday. “Don’t be. Tensions are running high, so it’s understandable. I’d worry more if you were the type to want to throw him out immediately.”

You sigh in relief, then turn toward the boy, who is still muttering apologies. “What would you like for us to do? Restrain you? Or… or make it so you don’t turn?”

The boy looks up at you. “I don’t want to turn! Please, don’t let me end up like them! I’d do it myself but I’m too scared!”

Hearing such a young man say that is heartbreaking. But you understand. If you ever get bitten, you hope someone will kill you before letting you become a zombie, doomed to roam the earth, rotting and attacking others. 

The man pulls a blade from a holster on his hip and approaches the boy. “Are you ready? Or do you need more time?”

The boy hesitates for a moment, then nods. “I’m ready. Please make it quick!”

The man pats him on the back affectionately. “You’re very brave. You can rest easy now. I’ll make sure you don’t suffer.”

The boy is staring at him, and seems comforted. “Thanks,” he says with teary eyes. 

You turn your head, unable to watch. You don’t hear a sound. No scream, not even a grunt. It really must have been painless. When you look back, the man is easing the boy’s body to the floor. He looks thoughtful, maybe a little sad. 

“I’m sorry you had to do that,” you say. 

He’s wiping his blade off on a handkerchief. “Someone has to make the tough decisions, and then carry them out.”

You start to ask why that had to be him, but you remain silent. You don’t like the way he seems to be taking all the darkness and sadness onto himself. But you have bigger things to worry about right now.

Man #4: 

The man you saw standing guard yesterday, who said he wanted to go back to the city, is staring out the windows of the store, watching the growing horde approach. He doesn’t seem scared, only annoyed, as if this is no more than a minor obstacle to his plans. 

“I’m gonna get out of here,” he says, loud enough for the others to hear. “I don’t have time to get held up.”

You look at him in shock. “You’re just going to leave the rest of us?”

He looks at you dispassionately. “A group will draw their attention a lot more than a single person. I’m not getting stuck with these guys.”

You look him up and down, at his sturdy physique. “But, we need you.”

“You ever stop to think that maybe someone else needs me?”

The question takes you aback. You have no answer for him. If he’s that desperate, if he’s willing to wade through countless zombies to get to the city, there must be someone very important to him there. 

“Can you at least wait a little while?” you ask him. “The zombies might give up and wander off if they can’t see us through the tinted windows.”

The man sighs. “Fine. I’ll see what happens.”

You look out at the horde. The first few zombies have reached the front of the store and are clawing at the windows and doors. You shudder as you watch them. You’ve never seen so many before, or so close up in a situation where you can actually get a good look at them. If one is close, you’re usually fleeing or trying to kill it. 

They’re all staring straight ahead, seemingly at nothing. Can they see their own reflections in the glass? Can they even perceive themselves? Seeing them just leaves you feeling empty and sad. 

“Do me a favor,” the man says. “If I ever get bitten, put a bullet in my fucking brain.”

You nod. “Same,” you say.

Man #5: 

The man who gave you the tip yesterday about using duck tape on your arms steps over to the windows to survey the situation. He already has his arms wrapped in a layer of the tape, over top of his sleeves. A few of the others notice, and begin wrapping their own limbs in tape or thick fabric, so you do the same. 

He steps closer to you and takes the roll of tape from your hand, then begins wrapping your forearm for you. 

“Thanks,” you tell him, hoping he can’t hear how nervous the growing horde outside is making you. 

He seems as calm as the more physically imposing men, despite having a more slender frame. “Our best option would be to bang on the glass and draw their attention to the front, then all of us slip out the back way,” he says. 

You glance toward the back of the store. “Should we check to see if they’ve circled around?”

He nods, and the two if you make your way back, through the storage area and to a large drop down gate. You assume trucks come in this way to unload merchandise. But it’s locked up tight and you can’t see anything on the other side. 

“There’s a window up there,” the man says, pointing. You have to use a step ladder to reach it, but you both climb up to look out. 

There aren’t nearly as many zombies roaming around behind the store, but there are definitely enough to be a problem. 

“I think we can make it through, but it’s going to be a challenge,” he tells you. 

You feel fear creeping up your spine. So far you’ve been able to evade most large groups of zombies, but with the store being surrounded, it’s looking like you’re going to have to wade into them. 

As the two of you return to the front, you feel your spirits sinking.

Man #6:

The man with the bright smile comes up beside you as you stare out hopelessly at the zombies gathered at the windows. 

“I’ve seen bigger hordes,” he says. 

You look up at him. “You have?”

He grins. “Sure. They’re not so bad when you realize how slow and uncoordinated they are.”

You appreciate his optimism. But you realize it’s more than that. His confidence rings true, and it makes you feel a little more hopeful. 

“So you think we can get out?” you ask. 

He nods, still smiling, then gestures to where a few of the men are standing in a small circle. “They’re planning our escape right now. We’ve got some real smart guys here, so don’t worry.”

You finally return his smile. “I hope you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” he replies. 

Just then you hear something, like tinkling glass. Both you and the man look around for the source of the noise. After a few minutes, you spot a tiny crack in the glass, right where over a dozen zombies are pressing against the windows. 

“They’re breaking the glass!” you cry, backing away. 

The man calls over to his friends, “Guys, put a rush on that brilliant plan!”

They look up and rush over to check the crack.

Man #7:

The man you met in the stock room yesterday is the first to crouch down and examine the crack in the glass. His brow is furrowed as he watches the zombies shove themselves against the window, then he turns to face the others. 

“Everyone, get whatever you need and be ready to go in ten minutes. We’ll take our chances going out the back.”

You already had your backpack ready, so you pull it onto your shoulders as the other men begin doing the same. You feel your heart racing as you prepare for the fight of your life. 

The man is securing his own pack with a strap around his waist and checking the heavy denim sleeves of the jacket he’s wearing. He seems uncomfortable in the fabric, as if it’s not something he’d normally wear, but protection is the most important thing right now. 

“What do you think our chances are?” you ask him. 

He looks around the room. “With this group? Pretty good. If we all stick to the plan,” he adds, glancing at a couple of guys in particular. Then he looks back at you. “Try to stay in the middle of us. We can protect you.”

“Thanks,” you tell him. “I guess I lucked out when I stumbled upon you guys.”

He gives you a warm smile. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

Just then, you hear glass breaking, another crack at first, and then a shattering that startles everyone in the store. Right beside you, the first zombie crashes inside, and the man grabs your arm, pulling you back behind him. 

As the zombie horde begins shambling into the store, the men around you take defensive positions and get ready to fight their way to the back.

Tag List:

@tadabzzzbee @babysoo-meu @atomicweaselpaperapricot

[redrose10]

Since spooky season is among us 7 or 8 would set those vibes 👀

Here is #7 from the picture game! I was hoping someone would request a spooky season one with this photo. It starts off pretty spooky but there is a lot of humor and stuff in there too. Also it’s kind of loosely based on that drama My Demon.

Warnings: Death, demons, small unwanted advancements, mention of hospitals and cancer

You looked around the room taking in the scenery as if it was all new to you even though you’d spent plenty of time there. Your grandma was a sweet woman. She really was, but sometimes you wondered what had happened in her life that caused her to become the way that she was now. She wasn’t always like this. Then one day she suddenly adorned her home with dozens and dozens of various crosses and pictures of the Virgin Mary. A bowl of Holy Water sat in each room. She recited prayers on the hour like her life depended on it. Even on her death bed it seemed to be the last thing she could think of. She held your hand as you studied her face trying to memorize every wrinkle and hair.

She hadn’t spoken in several days at this point. The nurses warned you to prepare for the end as it was near.

“Y/N”, she suddenly whispered with what little strength she had left.

Immediately you leaned forward, “I’m here grandma. I’m here. What do you need?”

“Y/N, I see him. I can see him. Do you?”

You looked around the room but it was only you and her. The nurse already having left for the night.

One of the pamphlets you read had talked about how hallucinations were common in the final stages of death. You remained quiet as your grandmother continued to mumble.

“Y/N, don’t make the same mistakes I have. I’m so sorry for what I did.”

You shook your head, “Grandma everyone makes mistakes. It’s okay. You did nothing wrong.”

“No Y/N. You don’t understand. If he ever comes to you, you run. You run away as fast as you can and don’t fall for his tricks.”

You were startled by her words but tried to remind yourself that the nurses told you this was normal and that it wasn’t really your grandmother talking any more.

“Y/N if you don’t remember anything I’ve ever taught you just please at least remember this. The Devil is real. And he's not a little red man with horns and a tail. He is beautiful. Because he's a fallen angel. And he’s here now Y/N. He’s here for me and I can’t avoid him any longer.”

She began to cry as her breath became even more ragged.

“Grandma it’s okay. It’s okay”, you said through tears trying to soothe her. You grabbed your phone to call the nurse hoping they could come administer some more sedatives or something. You hated seeing your grandmother cry in fear. But by the time the nurse picked up your grandmother had passed.

The nurse was at your door in no time. She helped you make the necessary phone calls and waited with you until the funeral home arrived. Once they were all gone and you were left alone sitting in your grandmothers room you stared at the now empty bed. The thought that your grandma’s last moments were filled with fear was more heartbreaking for you than anything else.

“Your grandmother was a good woman. I almost feel bad.”, a deep voice spoke behind you. You shrieked in fear jumping back against the wall.

“Who are you and how did you get in here?”, you screamed while frantically searching for your phone.

“Your grandmother just warned you about me. Were you not listening?”, he smirked.

You looked over this strange man who was standing in your grandmother’s bedroom. He had raven black hair and sleek cat like eyes. He was dressed in all black. His long cloak hanging lazily off of him. Skin without a single blemish. He looked like an angel.

“I’m sorry I’m still confused as to who you are and why you’re here.”, you said while slowly inching towards the door hoping you could make a run for it.

“Y/N, I’m here to collect what is mine.”

Your skin turned ice cold. Was he the man that your grandma had been seeing in her final moments? And how did he know your name?

The man let out an annoyed sigh before snapping his fingers teleporting you to an unknown location. The room was filled with thousands and thousands of clocks. All ticking away. The sound was overwhelming. Under each clock was a name plate. You gasped when you read the name under the clock directly in front of you.

Unlike the others your grandmothers clock wasn’t ticking any more and instead of being a beautiful gold color like the rest, it was gray.

“What is all this?”, you asked.

“Well I grant wishes.”

“Like a genie?”

“Yes…wait no not like a genie.”

“Well genies grant wishes so…”

“You humans really are insufferable.”, he scoffed before pinching the bridge of his nose, “As I was saying, I grant wishes for people in need. I come to them when they are the most vulnerable and in exchange for granting their wish they sign a contract stating that at the end of their life their soul will eternally be mine.”

You looked over this man trying to make sense of what he just said and why it involved your grandma.

“So what does this have to do with my grandmother?”

He grinned as he was happy to relive the moment, “Many many years ago I was at a hospital. It’s one of the easiest places to make a deal. People are willing to sign away their eternity if it means saving their loved ones or even extending their own time on earth. I came across your grandfather. He had just been diagnosed with terminal cancer, given less than three months to live. He was worried how your grandmother would be able to survive without him. She had a young child at home, only working part time at a bakery. He was desperate to make sure she was taken care of. Soooo I made him a deal. At his next doctors appointment he would be magically cured and then would live the rest of his life cancer free and when he died as an old man warm in his bed, his soul would be mine.”

You stared at him in disbelief.

He continued, “When your grandmother found out she was livid. She tracked me down and begged me to make a deal with her. At first I declined because I make the deals, not some measly human. But she was relentless. I kind of admired her honestly. Finally I gave in and made her a deal. Instead of taking her husbands soul I would get hers. She spent the rest of her life thinking that cheap porcelain crosses and holy water would save her. She paid her dues and now her soul is mine for eternity.”

Tears brimmed your eyes as you shook your head backing away from him, “You’re a monster.”

“Well they don’t call me the devil for nothing babe.”, he smirked.

Your grandmothers words repeated in your head. The devil can be beautiful and here he was standing in front of you looking as bewitching as ever.

“So what happens to the souls after you take them?”

“They’re used to fuel the livelihood of hell. Kind of like you would put gasoline in a car.”

You scoffed, “Okay and what happens when people stop making deals with you and you can’t collect any more souls?”

The devil let out a loud laugh, “That will never happen. Humans are far too selfish and weak. They will always be willing to make a deal if it benefits them in some way.”

You glared at him as hard as you could but deep down you knew he was right.

“Well it’s been a pleasure Y/N.”

“Wait! How do you know my name?”

“Babe, I know everyone and everything.”

And with that he snapped his fingers and you were back at your grandmothers and alone and confused.

Tonight was going to be a good night. You were showered and moisturized and ready to go out and have a great time. You had just exited your shower and was walking your way to the bedroom when you were greeted by a familiar voice.

“Give it back.”

You jumped in shock making sure your were completely covered with the towel.

“Excuse me! You can’t just enter into people’s homes like this.”, you spat, “I could’ve walked in here naked.”

“And I could’ve just walked into your shower and saw you naked myself if I wanted to but I didn’t. So now give it back!”, he demanded really not in the mood for anything right now.

“Give what back?

“My powers?”

“You’re pow- What?”, you’d said walking into the living room.

“Where are you going?”

“To call the police like I should’ve the first time.”

The devil lunged forward and grabbed your wrist pulling you against him, “Y/N, you really don’t want to do that.”

“You smell like cinnamon and vanilla.”, you whispered.

His brows furrowed, “What am I supposed to smell like?”

“I don’t know. Smoke with a touch of sulfur.”

“Seriously? Do you also think I should have horns and a pointy tail?”

“Actually ye-“

He shook his head, “Never mind that. You’re getting me off topic. Give me back my powers.”

“What powers? I don’t have any powers. Trust me because if I did you wouldn’t be here right now.”

He ran a hand through his somehow still perfectly styled hair, “Ever since I met you my powers have been all out of sorts. You are the only thing that was different from my normal routine. So what did you do to them?”

“Listen devil boy, I didn’t take your powers. And I really don’t appreciate you thinking you can just show up here whenever you want either. You made a deal with my grandparents, not me.”, you said poking your finger into his chest.

He looked at you somewhat shocked. No one had ever had the nerve to speak to him like that and he had to admit that he kind of liked it.

He straightened up his jacket before stepping away to give you some space, “Okay first off my name isn’t devil boy. You can call me Yoongi. Secondly if you didn’t take my powers then what happened to them?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know? Maybe you got fired or demoted or something.”

He snorted, “I am great at my job and I’m like literally the king of hell. Who’s gonna fire me?”

Rolling your eyes you grabbed your bag and started heading towards the door, “Look Yoongi I certainly don’t have your powers but if I come across them I’ll give you a call.”

You left him standing there alone and speechless.

“No thanks”, you said to the same guy for probably the 10th time. He didn’t seem to want to take no for an answer. “Hey I think I’m gonna get out of here and go home.”, you said to your friend. The noise and the people getting to be too much. She asked if you were okay by yourself which you were so you paid your tab and headed for the front door. As you waited for your ride a presence walked up next to you. Before you could react you were being dragged away down a dark alley next to the club.

“Since you didn’t want to play nice, now

I have to forcefully take it from you.”, said someone. You recognized the voice as the man who was insistent in the club earlier.

You whimpered while trying to break free of his grasp but he was significantly stronger than you were.

“Mmm you smell really nice.”, he said running his nose against your neck.

A loud bang rang through the air and smoke began to fill up the space around you. In an instant the man was thrown back against the opposite wall. Intimidatingly Yoongi stood next to you. He stared daggers at the man as he was picked up nearly twenty feet int he air before slammed back against the ground.

“If you ever even think about her again you’ll die instantly.”, Yoongi growled as he kneeled down next to the man.

He took the hint and hastily sprinted out of the alleyway somehow still in one piece.

“I thought you lost your powers?”, you questioned.

“Oh gee thanks for saving me Yoongi. That was really sexy of you. How can I ever repay you for that?”, he mocked in a high pitched voice.

You ran your tongue over your teeth before sighing, “Thank you for saving me Yoongi. That was really ANGELIC of you. I’ll repay you by getting out of your hair and going home.”

You tried to walk past him but he grabbed your wrist, “Not so fast Y/N. It seems like my powers are only strong enough when I’m near you.”

“Alright so what does that mean?”, you inquired.

He moved closer to you. So close you could feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek.

“It means that you and I are going to be spending a lot of time together.”, he smirked, “And I hope you’re ready for it babe.”

[violettwrites]

new kid — tp!daryl

a/n: hi besties !!! i hope you enjoy the little backstory on our fave duo 😌 if there’s anything you’d like me to write about these two, just let me know ! i’m also working on some tp!trio stuff including merle bcos those three are just chaotic.

if you enjoyed this, please like, reblog, and/or comment !

you can find my ask box here — which is open for requests !

summary: reader (11) moves into yet another place in another town, and isn’t exactly thrilled about it. that’s until they meet the quiet kid in the park.

warnings: allusions towards/mentions of abuse

word count: 1,166

resources: divider by @adornedwithlight

➸ tp!daryl masterlist

➸ regular masterlist

it was mid june when you first met daryl dixon.

your father had just pulled his old pickup into the trailer park, kicking up a cloud of dust that hung in the air long after the engine had shut off. you stared out the window, eyes scanning the rows of faded, sun-baked trailers, each one looking as old as the next. your dad, already in a foul mood, grumbled something about going inside and “not making a fuss.” you knew better than to argue with him.

you had just moved here. not that it was much different from the last place. same kind of peeling paint, sagging porches, and rusted cars that never seemed to run. but little did you know, this trailer park would have one difference.

you didn’t know him yet, but you saw him the moment you stepped out of the truck. he was sitting on the steps of the trailer not too far away from yours, his small frame slouched like he was trying to disappear into the wood behind him. his hair was dirty blonde, a little too long, falling into his eyes. and his clothes were dirt streaked and a couple sizes too big for him. he looked like he hadn’t had a good meal or heard a kind word in a long time.

your dad noticed him too, but all he did was grunt. “tha’s will’s kid,” he muttered, spitting on the ground and making you grimace at the action. “stay clear of him. ain’t no good come outta that family.” you frowned, because as far as you knew, your father and will were friends. he was the reason your dad knew about this place.

you didn’t say anything, turning on your heel to make your way into the trailer. your new home for however long your dad could keep a job, or not piss off the park owners and get kicked out. it had been like that your entire life. and you were just a burden on his back— someone he had to feed and provide a roof over their head.

it had always just been the two of you. you didn’t know much about your mother— sure you remembered her a little bit. she stuck around until you were about four, but then she had run off with someone else. someone who had more money. someone nicer.

according to your father, she had always been selfish like that.

later that afternoon, while your dad was off drinking with some of the other men that lived in the park, you wandered out. you kicked at a rock as you walked along the dirt road in the park, feeling the dry heat against your skin. the kind of heat that made everything feel like it was moving slower. you saw daryl again, this time sitting by the edge of the lot.

without thinking too much about it, you walked over. he didn’t say anything when you stopped just a few feet from him, he just stared at you through a tangle of hair.

“hey,” you said, trying to sound casual, though your anxiety caught the best of you and your voice wavered.

daryl didn’t say anything, his eyes darting away like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to look at you.

you kicked the dirt again, feeling a little awkward but not wanting to leave. you looked back up at him, a small frown on your lips. “i’m (y/n),” you said, hoping to get something out of him.

“daryl,” he replied, finally glancing up at you. his blue eyes were sharp, like they saw more than they let on.

you nodded, not sure what else to say. you knew that look. you saw it in the mirror sometimes — the kind of look kids get when they’re used to keeping their heads down, used to trying to stay out the way.

“i think your dad is friends with mine,” you stated, hands shoved into the back pockets of your shorts, rocking on your heels.

daryl flinched— just the slightest twitch of his shoulder, but you saw it. he didn’t say anything, but you didn’t need him to. you could tell what his life was like. his dad, will, and your dad — they were all the same. angry men with heavy fists and loud voices. men you had to learn to survive around.

after a long silence, daryl finally spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. “yeah. he is.”

you didn’t push. you knew that was enough for now. instead, you sat down on the ground next to him, the dust covering the back of your legs. daryl didn’t move, but you could tell he wasn’t as tense as before. the two of you sat there in silence for what felt like hours, the sun slowly dipping behind the trees, casting long shadows across the trailer park.

as the sky started to turn orange, you finally broke the silence that enveloped the both of you. “you wanna hang out tomorrow?”

daryl glanced at you, his brow furrowed in confusion, wondering why you would want to hang out with him. “why?”

you shrugged, picking at the hem of your shirt. “i dunno. ain’t got nobody else to talk to.” you looked at him, meeting those sharp blue eyes again.

he didn’t answer right away, but eventually, he nodded. “yeah. okay.”

that’s how it started. you and daryl weren’t the kind of kids who needed a lot of words, but it seems like you needed each other. you spent a lot of your days wandering the woods behind the park, throwing rocks at tin cans, and sitting by the creek when you wanted to escape the heat. you talked about your families a lot, but not your fathers. it was obvious what fathers who drank to much did, who hurt too much, who left scars deeper than anyone could see.

he’d talk about his older brother, merle, a lot. and you’d grimace at a lot of the things merle seemed to do. you were yet to meet him, but you weren’t exactly sure if you wanted to.

as the years went by, daryl became more than just a friend. he was your escape, your reason to keep going. you knew he felt the same, even if he didn’t say it out loud for a long time. you had each other’s backs in a world that seemed determined to keep you down, and that was enough.

even on the worst days, when your father’s temper flared and you were too scared to go home, daryl would be there, waiting by the tree line, ready to disappear into the woods with you. and when his old man came around looking for trouble, you’d do the same for him.

and though merle constantly teased the both of you, calling you names like lovebirds, you felt a little sense of security with your newfound family. it wasn’t picture perfect, but it mattered to you.

[honeyhoneypp]

Think Only About Me

Things One Piece men would say during sex

You felt so good, they loved your face filled with pleasure and loved your naked curves, everything was so perfect. They couldn't stop themselves from letting you know how good they felt.

NSFW!!!

Female pronouns! degradation + praise kink

==================================

L U F F Y

He’s always loud, he doesn’t care if someone hears him or not, he is not even thinking about that right now, all he’s thinking about is how good you're making him feel.

He would be honest with his words, he always asks you how you're doing because he wants you to feel good, but sometimes he could be rude with his words, you just have to tell him so he could do better next time.

==================================

“Shit… It feels so good, keep going, don't stop.”

“Want me to make it bigger, pretty girl?”

“A-Agh, ____… Are you sure you want me to make it bigger?”

“You’re… Ah- So damn wet”

“Please… Do that again… It’s called squirt, right? Please squirt again for me”

“Your ass looks so delicious from here”

“Yeah… Just like that, this feels okay with ya’?”

“Don’t cry, you said you could take it. Don't be a crybaby now”

“What is this bump on your tummy?”

“Oh, this is my cock? Shishi that’s so funny”

“Keep saying my name like that… I don't know why it feels so good when you say my name”

“____… I-I’m so close to cumming, wanna cum inside of you”

“It feels so tight”

“Oh, fuck. Huh? They're going to hear us? So what?”

“Y-You’re making me feel so good... I feel like I'll cum already”

“You look so beautiful... Makes me wanna cum…”

“I-I don’t know why you’re making me feel this way”

“Aw. Cmon pretty girl, don't put your hands on your mouth, wanna hear you, it makes me feel good and it's funny when you sound like that”

Nicknames he would call you

Pretty girl (I don’t see Luffy calling you something else other than your name or pretty girl)

Z O R O

He isn't that loud, he only whispers since he doesn't want any of his crewmates to know that he’s making love to you, that would be embarrassing for him, I mean he should be focused on other things, not on this!

Of course, he loves the noises you make, but sometimes you're too loud. He is kind of more on the sadistic side meaning he can be rude a lot of times with his words…

==================================

“Fuck… this tight ass pussy is killing me”

“Shhh, they'll hear you”

“Shut the hell up!”

“I told you to be quiet… you don’t want me to be mean with you, right?”

“How can you be so wet already?”

“You look so nasty, I like it”

“I’ll make you feel so good”

“You don't tell me what to fucking do”

“Are you that starved for my cock?”

“You need to shut your damn mouth or they’ll hear us!”

“You like it when I talk to you this way? You’re such a damn freak”

“Fuck… fuck… fuck… my beautiful woman…”

“Look at you, doll. You look so beautiful and cock hungry”

“Cmon, you can take my whole cock, right?”

“Yes… you can, take everything like a good girl”

“Mhmm… you’re such a slut… such a slut for my cock”

“You want me to pull your hair? You damn pervert”

Nicknames he would call you

Slut

Good girl

Woman

Babydoll

Pervert

Doll

S A N J I

He is another one that doesn’t care if his crewmates hear him. In fact, he wants his crewmates to hear how good you’re making him feel or how good he’s making you feel because he’s a freak and a whore.

He loves it when you treat him like a dog, he loves to beg you so you can make him feel good, but he can also be on the dominant side if you ask him to. He's so sweet with his words, he’s always telling you how beautiful you look

==================================

“____, p-please don't stop… I'm so close”

“My love, your boobs look so beautiful”

“Y-Yes, ____, I’ll do anything”

“Just please let me cum”

“You want me to go faster?”

“Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so tight it's killing me”

“How does that feel? D-Does this feel okay with you? You like that, sweetheart?”

“A-Ah, shit… You are taking me so well, my love, good job, sweetheart”

“Please keep saying my name… I-I feel like I'm about to cum”

“Don’t hold yourself back, sweetie… Please cum on my cock… please give it to me”

“You look so beautiful when you’re bouncing on my cock”

“Y-You want to take my whole cock? Are you sure?”

“Fuck- good job, my love. You’re making me feel so good”

“____, please do whatever you want to me… yes! Just like that!”

“Want me to go faster, pretty girl?”

“L-Let me eat your pussy, please, I beg you”

“My love, don’t hold yourself back… I want to hear your beautiful moans”

“Doesn’t matter if they can hear us.”

Nicknames he would call you

Pretty girl

Sweetie

Sweetheart

My love

Princess

Angel

==================================

Please let me know if I made spelling mistakes, some things don’t make sense or got their personality wrong!

[calliecwrites]

Pretending

Sometimes pretending to be a person is easy. Sometimes it isn’t. On the bad days, numbers start crawling on the page, straight lines curl, and I’ve got to remind myself to keep my face on. I want to stretch my other limbs, but the world down here is so thin, and so easy to tear. I have to be careful not to think too hard about anything, or it might start seeping through. You have no idea how much power you have, someone told me once, being able to create with a thought. And the children of my mind look too much like madness to humans.

Cases of madness worldwide are 1.3% higher on days like that.

But I don’t want to drive them mad. I’m here to protect them, not devour them. Not this time. So I have to pretend. Though with some of them practically throwing themselves at me, that isn’t always easy.

Writers are the worst. I let my ‘pretending to be a person is hard’ line slip into the coffee I’m nursing while my head pounds with the effort of keeping it all together, and her only response is, “Yeah, I know.”

“‘A writer is a world pretending to be a person’,” she quotes at me, and then, “That’s a deliberate misquote of something Victor Hugo said: ‘A writer is a world trapped in a person’. But I like my version better. If my soul wasn’t in a human-shaped body, sometimes I think I’d turn into a galaxy or something. Or maybe more than that. A multiverse.”

Humans are famously good at detecting things that don’t quite look human. I’m not doing a particularly good job of staying out of the uncanny valley today, but she doesn’t seem to have noticed. Or, worse, she’s noticed and likes it. Writers are like that sometimes. But I’ve been deliberately staying out of her mind. I can tell it’s twisty and complex, and I’m afraid the slightest touch from me would tip her over into madness. Or, who knows, maybe she’s right, and it would trigger her transformation into some kind of eldritch goddess that would put even me to shame. I don’t want to think about what that would do to the paper-thin world down here.

I’ve been so focused on my coffee, I’ve accidentally created another one. She hasn’t noticed.

“I do wonder what being a person is actually like, though,” she goes on. “You know, actually fitting in with all the weird rules humans have. Actually feeling at home here. And most of them only get to live one life, not all the fragments of all the lives we get to. Imagine that. They’ll never know what it’s like, being able to create with a thought.”

That last part hits too close to home, and I can’t resist taking just one quick peek into her mind.

“Oh, hello,” she says, and looks me in the eye.

I withdraw. No way she should have been able to feel that. And what I saw there – she’s practically a multiverse already, all jammed up there somehow into that tiny human brain.

“I always wondered if telepathy’s real,” she’s saying, “and now you’ve gone and proven it. Do that again, so I can see how you did it.”

No way, I’m not risking that – but she fumbles around and somehow does it anyway.

“There you are!” she says. I twitch back into my defences – why does this have to be happening on a day like this, when I’m barely holding it together anyway? The writing on the menu twists and curls, and customers start walking in circles. This time she notices.

“Ooh, eldritch abomination, is it?” she says. “Here, let me try.”

She squints, and now she’s holding another coffee, too. She takes a sip. “Mmm, just like in my dreams.”

Then she’s looking at me. Not just at my rapidly-slipping human disguise, but really looking at me, all the parts that no human should ever be able to see. But I don’t think she’s human anymore – I think she’s been right at that boundary for a while.

“You know, you really should pay more attention to that,” she says. “I find pretending is much easier if I do something like this—” and she does something, and my own human form snaps back into clarity. “There you go. Get those few things right and most people won’t even notice.”

Meanwhile, her own form is becoming more solid. That’s the only way I can describe it. Soon she’ll be so solid that her slightest movement will tear right through reality like tissue paper.

“Be careful,” I say, “you’re new to this, and this world is fragile—”

But it’s too late. She twitches in just the wrong way, and something tears.

Now everything is inverting. Everything that was packed up tightly inside her brain is becoming outside. The whole world is reforming around us, into one she considers home. I’m unaffected, but the humans are being completely rewritten.

“Hmm,” she muses, observing all the worlds at once. “Looks like I was right about myself.”

And she sees my dismayed expression. Avoiding something like this is exactly why I was being so careful down here. So much for that.

“Don’t worry,” she says, and gives me a reassuring pat somewhere in the fourth dimension. “There’s more than enough room in me for everyone.”

I really like that quote she uses, and use it myself. This story came from thinking - what if it was literally true, and not just a metaphor?

Tag list (tell me if you want to be added):

@avery-victoria-winterlight @dierotenixe @leahnardo-da-veggie @lunadook @mint-and-authoress

@sandyca5tle @scrubbinn @theriomythic-lesbian @void-botanist @wuwojiti

@zzzestyy

[serenasoutherlyns]

so you're a stranger again

Benovak, teen. Ao3. Thanks to @jelestes who encouraged me to finish this.

The woman across the room from her eyed her again, this time unsubtly, undressing her with her eyes. Olivia shivered, the look was so unabashed, so full of desire that it made her cheeks burn. The woman tossed her red hair over her shoulder before putting down her glass on the bar. Olivia’s heart pounded: she was making her way over to her.

Casey looked so good that Olivia almost couldn’t keep from kissing her as soon as she could reach her. She wore a green satin dress that Olivia didn’t recognize. It clung to her body, showing off everything, the open back especially had Olivia’s heart racing. She must’ve gone shopping for the occasion, Olivia couldn’t imagine when. The dim light in the lounge glinted off the clear pendant of her gold necklace.

“Hey gorgeous,” Casey said in that seductively low tone of hers, “can I buy you a drink?”

---

One year ago…

“That new DA’s a piece of work,” said Elliot, rubbing his temples. “I don’t know what Branch is thinking.” Olivia hummed in agreement. “She is kind of your type, though.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Olivia.

“Tall, skinny, pale,” he said, “plus you love lawyers.”

“Two,” said Olivia, “I’ve dated two.”

“More than I have,” said Elliot. “I’m just teasing you. Plus, no way she lasts more than a couple months in sex crimes.”

“Let’s hope. Why do we even need an assigned DA anyway?”

—-

“That would be lovely, thank you,” said Olivia in reply. Casey smiled at her and beckoned to the bartender. Somehow, she even made that gesture sexy.

“What am I getting you?” she asked. Casey’s voice was still, deep, and driving Olivia insane.

“Whiskey and soda,” said Olivia. She thought she would branch out tonight, after all, they weren’t themselves for an evening. She played with her necklace for a moment, hoping it would call Casey’s attention to her décolletage. It worked. Casey cleared her throat before ordering.

“May I take this seat?” Casey asked. Her girlfriend, not her girlfriend for the night, didn’t abandon her chivalrous nature. Olivia nodded and Casey slid into the seat beside her gracefully.

“I’m Casey,” she said. “Who do I have the pleasure of sitting beside tonight?” In another situation, if it really were a stranger, Olivia might’ve laughed at the pickup line. They were already playing a game, though, so it didn’t feel silly.

“Olivia. It’s nice to meet you, Casey.” She held her hand out for an introduction, and Casey took it. Instead, she kissed.

“The pleasure is all mine, Olivia.” The bartender came back with her whiskey soda and Casey thanked her. Olivia took a steadying sip. She knew she had no reason to be nervous, but her hands still shook a little. Casey just looked so good, was being so shamelessly seductive, that she couldn’t help it. For a moment, Casey’s glances faltered. She placed a hand on Olivia’s shoulder, reassuring. “What brings you out tonight?” Casey asked.

“Long day at work,” said Olivia, which wasn’t a lie. “Figured I’d unwind before I went home. What about you?”

“Similar,” said Casey. “My coworkers drive me insane, sometimes.” Olivia almost laughed at this. She knew Casey was talking about Elliot. The two of them had gotten into a little disagreement at work that day. If it had gotten much farther, Olivia may have had to break it up.

“Mine too,” said Olivia.

---

One week ago…

“Do you ever wish we’d met differently?” Olivia asked. Casey was beside her on a mostly-wordless Saturday night that they were spending with takeout, crosswords, and the latest Belle and Sebastian album. Casey took a moment to respond.

“What brings that to your mind?” She said. Olivia stretched, and when she was done, rested her hand on Casey’s thigh.

“I mean,” said Olivia, “I think we make a pretty good couple. But we met with so much conflict, sometimes I wish it was different.” Casey considered it.

“I’ve had that thought,” said Casey. “Don’t you think it makes us closer that we know how to fight?”

“I do,” said Olivia. “Still, sometimes I wish we’d been two strangers at a bar.”

“You romantic,” said Casey. Olivia had never considered herself one before Casey, even with previous girlfriends she’d been reserved in that area. With Casey, though, she would show up on her doorstep with roses and was even letting her teach her how to cook. She sometimes would imagine meeting Casey for the first time without all the fighting, Casey’s presence outside of work that she was so fond of. Casey’s voice broke her chain of thought. “We could always have a do-over.”

“What do you mean?” Said Olivia.

“Pretend we don’t know each other,” Casey said. “Be those two strangers in a bar. I’d kind of like to try and pick you up, actually. Show off my game.”

“Your game,” said Olivia. “I know you’ve got game.”

“What if you pretended you didn’t? Let’s both wear something pretty and go to the same bar one night. It’ll be fun,” said Casey. Olivia was starting to get to know every side of Casey, a couple months into dating her, but she didn’t know she had quite that capacity for whimsy.

“You wanna seduce me, Novak?” Olivia said. She had butterflies thinking about it, which seemed like a good sign.

“I do,” said Casey. “I’d love to.” The word love made Olivia’s butterflies race even faster. She really did know that she loved Casey, but hadn’t said it yet. Maybe it was a little too early still. Maybe she was just nervous.

“Okay,” said Olivia, “let’s do it.” Casey grinned at her. She very smoothly took Olivia in her arms and kissed her.

“I can’t wait to meet you,” she said. Olivia relaxed further into her touch, and went back to her crossword.

---

After talking for a while, Casey asked Olivia the question she’d been dying to hear all night.

“Would you like to get out of here?” Olivia nodded at first, and took the final sip of her drink. They closed the tab, and then Casey popped out of her chair. She look Olivia’s hand as if to help her down. She did it so effortlessly. Olivia was so glad they’d decided to do this tonight. The cab ride back to Casey’s dragged on painfully slowly. Everyone in New York seemed to forget to drive in the rain. Casey made it entertaining, though torturously. She started with holding Olivia’s hand, then moved to her thigh. If they really were strangers, perhaps it would be too forward, but Olivia did not mind. She eventually leaned over the middle seat and kissed her, chastely then deeply. She felt a little bad for the cabbie, but figured he’d seen worse.

When they got inside, Casey offered Olivia another drink, but she declined. She wanted a totally clear mind. Casey had gone so far as to do a little bit of redecorating to make the space seem different, not like the apartment Olivia spent so many hours at these days. The thoughtfulness of that fact made Olivia’s chest warm. She picked up the kiss where they had left off in the car. She pressed Casey against her kitchen counter, holding her hips. Casey may be the seductress, but Olivia knew she was the one guiding. When she had Casey’s breaths quick, she pulled her into her bedroom. This was breaking character a little, but she didn’t care. She needed Casey, and knew Casey needed her.

In the calm of the early morning, Olivia knew it was time. In a completely quiet moment, she sat up on her elbows to observe, make sure Casey was awake.

“Hey, Casey?” she said. “I love you.”

“On the first night we meet?” Said Casey teasingly. “You move a little fast there, Olivia.” Olivia blushed.

“I, maybe I should’ve waited to say it.”

“No,” said Casey, “I wish I’d said it weeks ago. I love you too, Olivia.” Olivia took her hand and drew circles on the back.

“You were not kidding about seducing me, by the way. Jesus, you’re hot. That dress…” Casey laughed. “Thank you for making me do this.”

“My pleasure,” said Casey. She sat up to kiss Olivia. It said everything.

[waste-0f-spacee]

lmao

[moonkhao]

hi.

[fumifooms]

You’re the resident chilchuck expert, so I was wondering about it there’s any canon evidence that he did smoke or drink alcohol when the kids were younger. I always thought it was something he picked up due to the strain of long jobs, when the kids were already older, but you seem to think differently and I was wondering if there was anything in canon that made you think that way!

Now that you mention it I guess it’s true there’s no evidence he did. Smoking we literally only know he does at all because of one post-canon panel where he has a pipe, so no, maybe this stick-looking thing in the panel below too though, I’m not familiar with medieval blunts eh. We’ve only gotten one panel of him and his daughters interacting when he was younger so that’s not too insightful on that end, and every time we see him young and freckled it’s in a job context so again not really where we’d expect him to be drinking. The earliest proof (/heavy implication since we don’t see inside his cup I guess) is 3 years before canon when Laios hired him, where he’s at a bar, classily placed in front of all the bottles ✨

Yes alcohol is almost certainly a way through which he copes especially with stress, so if we go with the theory he started around when work got stressful, well… Chilchuck started working as a dungeon diver ~10 years ago so when he was ~19, making Mei, Fler and Puck ~6 and ~4 respectively, so from that draw the ‘stressful enough to start drinking’ line wherever. We don’t know what he did before that with any certainty, and it could be he did odd jobs, lived off mostly mutual aid and community work, or just focused on only raising the girls. Half-foots tend to be poor and I see a lot of that in Chilchuck specifically so I don’t think he could have afforded to not have some paying work though.

Alright, so then why do I think he did drink when the girls were younger?

I give a more complete rundown of the info we do have on his alcoholism & his family with panels and references + all the speculation I make from it here. But the most targeted and objective answer I can give is:

Of course there’s just very very little we know of Chilchuck’s life with his family, and I think that’s by design too. I think the details being up in the air is to allow more nuance of the topic, like, will trying to reconcile go well, is their relationship salvageable? We don’t know, because we don’t know. So the message of giving hope a chance even if it’s a long shot, that things could truly go either way, is more relevant, impactful and meta in that way. How long was he usually away for work travels into dungeons here and there? How did he act with them? All we can really do is "it’s likely that", it’s a game of which way we think it’s more implied. There’s no right and wrong answer, it’s all Marcille-like larping the events out.

My main reason for thinking he did is that his father died from overdrinking and Chilchuck is very aware of that. He mentions his death casually in the extra about their stance in alcohol and in his Adventurer’s Bible profile, etc. He acts towards the alcohol presumably the same way his father did: with abandon, uncaring for the health effects, probably happily too considering Chil says "dying doing something you love is a good way to go". Very nonchalant. So you see what I’m saying here right, wether he started early or late, his view of alcoholism is very influenced by what he saw of his father growing up, it’s something he’s always been aware of and saw in a mostly positive light, something that was inherited you could say. It’s something that was normalized to him from a young age. Regardless or where it goes from there I do think this part is pretty inarguable. If he views it positively and we know that in the present alcohol is his favorite food that he loveees, why would he have held out on it? Personally that all makes me think he started drinking very young, especially since I don’t think they limited alcohol to age as much as modern standards (and I mean, teen drinking is obviously still a thing). And here you could argue, maybe his father only started being more alcoholic later when Chilchuck moved out, or something! And to that there’s nothing I can say except I think that’s a strained theory, and that Chil might even have largely cut contact with his family after moving out (since he and siblings are listed as almost strangers and he doesn’t seem to have much emotional attachment to his parents, but also we know he rents out his place to "a relative"), but it’s true we have no evidence. "I’ve picked up the same unhealthy substance abuse as my father haha! No big deal right haha" repeated several times to me just reeks of intergenerational trauma, & the alcoholism gene as they call it. Like effortless sliding into drinking as if it’s second nature, it’s natural after all, it’s normal after all, it just makes sense, it makes you feel good and that’s what matters.

BUT from my interpretation then we have a whole other layer: Alcohol is of course not all bad always. I think he’s always liked alcohol and drank it on occasion and it brought him joy etc etc, but I think here the implication in the question is, how much effect did his drinking have on the family relations and how early? And that isn’t so much about when him drinking started but when the alcoholism started. Addiction is defined by a habitual need, that has negative effects from filling that need (physical, psychological, social, etc) and negative effects from withdrawal. If Chilchuck drinks to cope and he can’t not cope without it, that’s addiction, if it affects his relationships, if it’s a need he has, it’s addiction. Addiction can be very insidious or look very casual, and how much people around the person are affected by it is case by case. Cheerful drunks can be sooo annoying and uncomfortable though let me tell you. Drunks are drunks. And this sounds harsh, but even if people around them don’t mind drunks it’ll still have some effects here and there, living with one can be such a challenge, ily drunks good luck with everything much like Chilchuck you deserve good things 🫡　

Ok so with the dad thing and the "ok well maybe he’s always drunk casually but it grew worse with time around when he started working as a dungeon diver" precision made, the other bit of info we have that can inform this is that Chilchuck is on a harsh diet and that alcohol is a hunger suppressant. We know Chilchuck "used to be fine not eating for two days", that literally on screen to quench his hunger so it doesn’t keep him awake he goes to drink water, drinking is his instinct to hunger. Again alcohol is a hunger suppressant and if you want info on that the internet has a lot of research and anecdotes about it. He diets to be light enough to not trigger traps, so it’s something he’d have started after dungeon diving most likely. Between the stress and the diet, yes it’s extremely likely he started going harder on alcohol after he started working in dungeons. There’s arguments on wether two days without eating is less bad for half-foots than humans, but apart from smaller portions there’s nothing that indicates half-foots should get less than 3 meals a day. They need less food but that’s because their bodies are smaller: the need is proportional to the body, not smaller than others’ races, the % of need is similar even if the kg amount of food isn’t. There’s also a popular headcanon with support basis that half-foots run hot and have a faster heartrate and whatnot, and that points towards a faster metabolism rather than a slower one: a bigger need for eating rather than a smaller one. He has the same bmi, 18, as Mickbell, but perhaps because Chil is much taller he’s less intensely visibly underweight with ribs showing than Mick during the bath extra, it’s most apparent when he becomes tallman.

Alcohol is something so important and omnipresent in his character that I have trouble believing it’s something that was part of only a small fraction of his life. It’s his immediate go-to, his no-brainer solution to a good time, I’ve sort of always assumed especially after looking at his family that it’s something he discovered decently young. Like he just acts like someone who’s always had alcohol to fall back on and started young idk. Alcohol is one of his 5 keywords. Alcoholism is very ingrained into his world view and life, his "it doesn’t matter" stance his ‘work hard play hard’ mentality his idea that the world is harsh so you get relief where you can, so it just makes sense to me that it’s always been in his life, if not actively then at least looming.

So yes, in summary, my take: Alcohol was always something he wholly enjoyed to an unwise level, but it could have been considered casual until he started working into dungeons and his need for it on a regular basis intensified. Alcohol has always had positive association to him as far as we see, so when it started being a problem he didn’t see it as such. To quote him, "I drink anytime I get the opportunity to". Why always? Approval of father’s alcoholism. Why alcoholism at all? Diet + stress & coping mechanism & emotional stunting + relationship issues, and she decided she had enough after they went out for drinks.

Conclusion

Chilchuck having drunk from a young age makes sense to me and it’s the strongest narrative angle I see on the table, but that’s objectively a me opinion, yes! There’s no evidence, moreso there’s canon basis and supporting info, but it’s all very left up to interpretation. I’ve made my own interpretations of things from the scraps we see, like everyone else making Chilwife and daughters content. Wether you have a stance on the topic or prefer to leave it vague in your takes, it’ll be a matter of what you think makes most sense, or what you’d rather believe I suppose (which is literally fine)

There’s a lot of subjectivity in even just setting up causal links like you probably noticed during this and I was careful with my word choices, because we’re just extrapolating from what we see and unless Kui states it explicitly from a reliable mouth all we can do is have informed opinions on most things. This particular interpretation is influenced by other details I’ve come to form about my interpretation of Chilchuck too, the more psychological and emotional sides of him and the timeline and how his marriage even happened, unplanned pregnancy imo. Like I hope you see what I mean, this wasn’t supposed to be a speculation post just a quick simple answer but there’s sort of just no other and concise but complete way with the subjectivity nuance to put "maybe it could be yes because of this but maybe it could be no because of this" haha

Edit: Wait the phrasing on this… Interesting. "In recent years"— This does imply that if not just his alcohol consumption increasing then the diversity and quality of it did, so either he indeed did start drinking more (not necessarily meaning he didn’t drink before) assumedly because of his wife leaving, or he started drinking other/more different kinds of alcohol maybe due to the union he formed + his experience gave him greater salary than he had previously (and no wife and family to provide money for), a mix of both perhaps.

[dwtdog]

.

[fingertipsmp3]

I love when Amazon plays itself. It’s genuinely so funny

[cr0wc0rpse]

I’m just having a shit time and feeling pretty miserable lately and I’ve been trying to not think too much about it or let it soak but it still gets in through the cracks. And earlier today I was reminded that 1 year ago today I got out of the hospital after my suicide attempt. Which just kind of makes me feel worse. I was miserable then and I’m still miserable now. Almost nothing has actually changed since then, both within me, personally and my life, and outside of me. It’s still the same

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Busted

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Rogue has a date, and you and Logan decide to follow. You're just making sure she's safe. But sometimes it's in moments like that, that you find out your 'husband' is the love of your life.

Disclaimer: Mostly chaos, fluffiness, fake dating, mentions of being a soldier, the claws come out briefly, a nosy book club and its members. Some swearing, steam and a little angst. I wrote this over two days so apologies if it becomes spotty. This is a long one. Not Proof Read.

Rogue had a date. 

Both yourself, Logan and…practically most of the teachers in the school knew about Rogue having a date. 

Yet, despite knowing all of this. And somewhat knowing the guy’s intentions…Logan had decided to follow them. 

And you had found yourself tagging along. 

“And what did you think you were gonna do when they figured out you were following them?” You asked him. “At least this way it just looks like we decided to pick up dinner in town.”

“At the same restaurant?”

“You ask that as if this wasn’t your idea.”

“Oh please,” Logan practically rolled his eyes at you. “I saw what you were actually looking at early. You were caseing the place.”

“I was looking at their opening times.” You countered, if a little harshly. 

“You were casing the joint and you know it. If I wasn’t coming down here, you would have already come.”

You gave a short, heavy sigh. “Fine. I wanted to make sure this wasn’t some kind of set up. I just want her to be safe and have fun.”

“And I want to make sure the guy isn’t a creep.” Logan finalised before opening up the door for you allowing you to step inside. 

“Hello, madam! Ah, good sir! Table for two?” The waiter looked at his list. 

Logan looked and felt a little out of place. He was hoping you could both enter quietly, not have an announcement made to the entire restaurant. 

“Uh, yea. Yes, please.”

The waiter smiled, picking up two menus. “Please, this way.”

“Logan.”

Logan followed your line of sight to see where Rogue and her date were sitting, smiling and laughing with one another as they looked over the menus. 

“Uh, actually, bub?”

The waiter turned around. “Yes, sir?”

“If you don’t mind we’d like to sit…” Logan looked around and found an empty table. “There.”

You saw where he pointed and realised why. Too far back into the restaurant, you’d pass right by the happy couple. 

Sitting where Logan was currently looking, gave you direct sight of the happy couple and with a chance, more coverage from the rest of the guests. 

“There?” The waiter asked, a little offended. “Oh, no, Sir. Please. We have a lovely booth for a couple such as yourself back here. Romantic candle light, a lot more privacy, no?”

You felt yourself blush at what the waiter was trying to subtly say. 

And it seemed that Logan caught on, too. And looked at you, unsure of what to do. 

You gave a small laugh and moved closer to Logan, “I’m sure, but you see, the thing is, my…”

You hesitated a little on your next words. “Husband.”

Christ, you felt that lie weigh on your chest. 

“He was in the army. Not a big fan of not being able to see the door. Just a habit, I suppose.”

The waiter gave a softer smile. “Ah, no worries.” 

Swiftly, he began leading you both towards the table Logan had pointed out. “My sister is serving overseas right now. We are all very proud. Thank you for your service, Sir.”

Logan gave an awkward smile and thanked the waiter before you both sat down with your menus. 

“I thought we were busted then,” Logan shifted in his seat. 

“So did I,” you replied. “So long as they don’t draw any-”

“So, what will it be?” 

Both yourself and Logan jumped at the waiter's sudden reappearance. However, he didn’t seem to notice as he began rattling off the specials. And then the wines. And then came the crash. 

Everyone’s heads turned inside the restaurant. 

Including Rogue’s. 

Quickly, you scooted your chair around so the waiter blocked you from view. By the time he turned back around, muttering about incompetencies about the newer staff members, he excused himself and headed in the direction of the crash. 

You saw Rogue settle her back to talking with her date and you breathed again, pulling your chair back to its original position. 

The waiter returned. 

“So, what will you be having?”

This time he blocked your view from Rogue’s table, giving Logan a clearer view of her date. You could see something flare up in Logan. 

“Uh, we’re gonna need another minute.” You said hurriedly, willing the waiter to walk away. 

And he did. 

For a moment. 

“Logan.”

He turned back to you. “What?”

“Have you decided yet?” The waiter was back. 

Logan took your menu from you and placed it with his before handing it over to the waiter, who seemed shocked for a moment since it took him just as long to realise what Logan was doing. 

“Two cheeseburgers, a side of fries and two sodas. Please.”

The waiter seemed to force his smile a little. “Of course, sir. Anything else?”

“No, thank you.” You replied and the waiter bowed his head before walking away.

For a split second as you looked at Logan, you felt a comfort in your gut. And apparently the look was still clear on your face when he looked back at you. 

“What?”

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of it. “Nothing, just…well, the last time a guy ordered my food for me he ordered me a salad, with a side of vinegar and sparkling water.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, slightly confused. “Is that what you wanted?”

“Fuck no.” You answered honestly. You didn’t want it then, and you sure as hell didn’t want it now. 

Especially the sparkling water. 

Logan looked at you for a moment in a silence you hadn’t known from him before. Then he turned back to watch Rogue’s date. 

And there was that look again. 

“Logan. You can’t kill him from here.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

You nodded. “I know that. And so does everyone else in this restaurant. At least now I know why Scott doesn’t send you undercover.”

Logan turned back to you. 

“You might be the ‘mysterious, silent’ type but if someone took one look at your face, they’d find their answers.”

“Are you saying I’m easy to read?”

Someone came and placed your drinks down on the table. You shrugged. 

“To the people who know you, yes.”

“Okay, then. Fine.” Logan turned his full attention onto you. “What am I thinking?”

“That I’m wrong. And that you wished you had the powers of invisibility so you could be closer to the table without being seen and mess with her date whilst he can’t see you.”

Logan remained still for a second before shifting in his seat. “Okay, fine. Maybe I am easy to read.”

You smiled and took a sip of your soda. “See.”

For the next twenty five minutes, things ran smoother than expected. You both enjoyed your meals, yourself and Logan talked a little however spent most of your time watching Rogue and her date enjoy their time. 

“What would you do?” 

Logan hummed a questioned response. 

“If you took someone out on a date? What would you do?”

Logan scrunched up his paper napkin and placed it beside his plate. “Why do you want to know?”

You shrugged, looking away from Rogue’s date. “Curiosity? I’ve had that many crappy dates in my time, maybe you can rescue my last sliver of hope.”

Logan felt a smile on his face for a moment, hearing your plea for hope. 

“Oh, come on. They’re talking. If we look at them any longer they might sense someone staring.”

Logan sighed. “Fine.”

“So, what would you do?”

Logan shrugged. “I don’t know. Go for a drink, maybe some food. Honestly, it’s been a while since I’ve dated.”

“Seriously?”

Logan nodded. “Seriously. What about you?”

You thought about it for a moment. “Well, the last date I went on the guy ordered my food for me.”

“Sparkling water guy?” Logan asked. 

You nodded. “One in the same. He spent two hours talking about his businesses, and didn't notice I hadn’t touched my food. Or my drink, for that matter. Then at the end, said that if we ever got married, I wouldn’t have to worry about anything other than what I was going to make him for his dinner each night.”

“Fucking asshole. Why did you stay?”

You decided to answer honestly. “Didn’t have anything else to do. And my friends had been on my case about my dating life. They were all either married or getting married or starting a family, and when they said they knew this “really great guy, you’ll just adore him” I decided to give it a shot.”

“What did they do when they found out he was an asshole?”

“Couple apologised, others asked me to give him a second chance. They haven’t tried setting me up with anyone since.”

Logan watched you for a moment as you pulled your soda to your lips. He wanted to punch the Sparkling Water Guy. He didn’t realise how lucky he was to be on a date with someone like you. And, in all honesty, he wasn’t too happy with your friends either. 

“You deserve better.”

Your eyes widened and for a moment Logan thought he had fucked up, saying that to you out loud. 

“Logan. Logan, quick. Shit.”

Then he noticed where you were looking. Rogue was standing up, as was her date. 

“Shit.”

You looked around you, trying to find the best place to hide yourself. Only Logan found a solution. 

From under the table, he grabbed the bottom of your chair and pulled you closer towards him. 

“Just keep looking at me, hopefully we’ll just blur in with the rest of the crowd.”

And you did. You kept your eyes on Logan. 

In his peripheral vision, he saw Rogue slipping her coat on with her date’s help, who just so happened to rake his eyes up and down her body from the back whilst she wasn’t looking. 

Then he felt your hand on his. 

“Logan,” you whispered to him, getting his attention. 

With your hand on his, you were covering the tips of his claws that started peeking out from between his knuckles. 

“He’s just helping her put her coat on.”

Logan felt the tips of his claws retract, however three small holes were left in the cloth on the table beside his plate. 

“Sorry.”

You just smiled. “It’s okay.”

Then the waiter came back. “Ah, so lovely to see a couple so in love.”

You felt your cheeks go red and hid your face against Logan’s shoulder as he curled his arm around your back and smiled at the waiter. “Can we have the check?”

The waiter nodded. “Of course, just one moment.”

Within seconds, the waiter was back just as Rogue and her date walked out of the door. 

“Have a lovely evening!” The waiter called out to both of you as Logan took your hand and headed for the door. 

Rogue and her date were already half way down the street. 

“Where are they going?”

“Maybe he’s walking her to the cab station?” You offered. 

Logan, with his eyes still fixed on the dates, nodded his head in the opposite direction. “Taxis’ that way.”

Looking back at you, you both made a simultaneous decision and were back to following them. 

“Where the hell could they be going?”

“Maybe they’re just going for a walk. It is still early and they looked like they were having fun. Some couples like to take a walk together after a date.”

“They’re not a couple yet. And this is their first date.” 

You caught up beside Logan and pulled him to a slower pace so neither of you looked like frantic maniacs going down Main Street. 

“If we get any closer, they’re gonna see us.”

“You’re right.”

Yourself and Logan tailed them down the street and around the park before deciding to head back home. “If they’re coming round on the top of the street, they’re gonna see your car.”

Logan looked around him before taking hold of your hand and nearly pulling your arm out of its socket. “This way.”

“Logan, slow down.” You told him. “We aren’t all ten feet tall.”

Thankfully, he did slow down, however didn’t let go of your hand. 

“Do you think we did the right thing? Following them?”

You nodded. “I was questioning it at first but…at least this way we know the guy actually meant what he said when he asked her out. Oh, shit

“What?”

You just managed to push Logan into the doorway of a closed bookstore, pushing his back against the glass. 

“What are you doing?”

“Uhhh,” you panicked. “Nothing. Just a…puddle. Big puddle.”

“It hasn’t rained in three days. What are you-”

Logan stopped when he saw what you had seen. Rogue’s date was about to lean in to kiss her. 

You pushed him back, trying your best to keep him pinned to the wall. “Okay, I get we tailed them most of the night but we have to give them some privacy.”

“Did he even ask?”

“I don’t know, but just keep your voice down. The car is three spaces away. Hopefully they’ll be distracted long enough to-”

You peered back round the corner. “Oh, thank god.”

“What? What’s going on? Has hell opened up and sucked him in?”

You looked back at Logan, a little less than amused. “They’re going into the ice cream shop. Come on, before they see us.”

However, just as you both stepped out of the doorway, you found your path blocked by an elderly woman and her dog. 

She chuckled to herself. “Don’t mind me kids, just taking Frankie on a walk. And don’t worry, honey. I remember when I first met my Harry. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”

You let out a nervous laugh as Logan looked like he was about to burst from embarrassment as he ran a hand through his hair, his shirt coming untucked and showing off a small hint of his torso. 

Mrs Keller watched where your eyes landed and gave you a knowing albeit loving smirk as she watched you move closer to Logan, tugging his shirt down a little and pressing close into his side. 

“We should get going. It was nice seeing you Mrs Keller.”

Mrs Keller waved you both off towards Logan’s car. “I’ll see you for next week's book club?”

You nodded. “I’ll be there.”

“Feel free to bring your husband along,” she called back. “It’ll drive Little Miss Prissy up the wall that you’ve been keeping that Handsome Fella a secret.”

You laughed nervously once again, as Logan gave you a slight smirk despite his initial embarrassment at what the old lady thought you were both doing.  

“Good night, Mrs Keller.” You called out before Logan repeated it. 

She waved you both goodbye before continuing down the street with Frankie walking by her side. 

Closing the passenger door, you covered your face with your hands already feeling Logan’s eyes and teasing smile on you. 

“She was nice.”

“Shut up and drive.”

Logan chuckled, placing his key into the ignition and pulling out of his spot, his hand behind your headrest as he did so when looking over his shoulder. 

Barely five minutes into the drive, Logan started asking you questions. 

“You’re a part of a book club?”

“We all meet every fortnight and talk about books.”

“And Mrs Keller…?”

You sighed. 

“Is one of the founding members. I met her at the library one day when taking some books back. She was at the desk asking if they had the newest Danielle Steel. They didn’t, but I had seen it in the shop window in a bookstore on the other side of town. We walked together and she invited me to join.”

“How was the book?” Logan asked. 

“I cried.” You answered honestly. “First book I actually cried at.”

Logan let out a small laugh and you hit his arm whilst trying to hold in one of your own. “Don’t laugh.”

“I-I’m not laughing. Okay, maybe I am. I mean, it is funny. Is this where you’ve been disappearing every other Saturday?”

You nodded. “Pretty much. They’re a fun group. Well, most of them are.”

“Let me guess?” Logan asked. “Little Miss Prissy?”

You groaned. “She lives two doors down from Eva. Eva can be nice, but Prissy? God, she’s a nightmare. Every time it’s her turn to talk, she somehow manages to turn it back to her and her “ever doting husband” and their “precious baby niece and nephew” and “oh, look at how cute he is with them.” You know, we read American Psycho once. She still managed to turn it back to her husband.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” you continued. “If she wanted to know about anyone else’s love life. Like…” you sighed, thinking of an example. “Mrs Keller? Her and Harry have been together since they were seventeen. They met when they were twelve, lived across the street from each other their entire lives. Mrs Keller had been stood up for one of the local dances by Harry’s friend. So, the minute he found out, he ran over to her house, still covered in motor oil and asked her to the dance. Mrs Keller deserves to write her own romance book for everything that her and Harry have done together. But can she get a word in edgewise? Nope.”

“Sounds like a love for the ages.” Logan said with a soft smile on his lips, looking at you before turning his gaze back to the road in front of him. “And by the sounds of it, Mrs Keller is going to give her something else to talk about.”

You covered your face again. “Oh, god.”

“Hey, come on, it can’t be that bad.”

“How do I tell Mrs Keller I’m not married? She’s gonna think that I’m-”

“What if you didn’t?” 

You turned and looked at Logan. “What?”

“What if you didn’t? Tell them you’re not married? I mean, it’s not like they’re gonna meet me.” Logan explained. “Just…keep up with the lie.”

“And what do I do when they ask me questions?”

Logan shrugged. “Just…bend the truth.”

“Okay,” you sat up in your seat, deciding to test him. “How did we meet?”

“At work. We’re both teachers.”

“When was our first date?”

Logan thought about it. “Six months after we met. We decided to stay up late and ate leftover Chinese food.”

You furrowed your brows. How the hell did he manage to answer these so quickly? Sure, most of it was true. You were both teachers, and the first night you spent alone in the same room together was eating the leftovers in the fridge. Of course, what wasn’t being said was that you both actually met when Logan nearly bulldozed you when he ran into the Professor’s office just after he’d woken up in Jean’s lab. Or how neither of you had properly spoken to one another until that night six months later. 

Or how afterwards, it took a long time for you to make a genuine friendship with him that wasn’t just talking about the team or what the students had to learn in that semester. 

“And then what?” You asked him. “We kissed and lived happily ever after?”

Logan shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

You groaned again. “I hate lying to Mrs Keller.”

“You just lied to her like ten minutes ago. We both did.”

Eventually, Logan pulled up outside of the school and left the car back where he had found it. 

“Like we never left.”

You smiled. “Come on, before she gets back and figures out what we’ve been doing.”

Walking through the school ground and up the front steps, both you and Logan chatted away, laughing a little here and there about anecdotes you were telling him. 

Then you were alone in the middle of the empty hallway, cast in darkness and hints of moonlight. 

“We should get to bed before they get back.”

“I think I might stay up and wait for her to get back. Make sure he didn’t do anything he shouldn’t have done.”

You stepped a little closer to him. “Be nice, Logan.”

“I’m always nice.”

You just raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Okay, fine.” Logan sighed a laugh. “I’ll be nice.”

“Thank you. Tell me how it goes?”

Logan nodded. “Course.”

However, as you both stood together in the hallway, soaking in the vision of the other, you both heard footsteps. 

“Shit.”

Logan looked around. “Here.”

Taking your hand, Logan pulled you into the small space besides the bookshelf and the window. 

Being pressed between the wall and him, you felt his scent and body heat swirl around you and mix with your own. Your own heartbeat was drumming so loud in your eardrums you could hardly hear what Rogue was saying when she was talking to her date. 

From above you, Logan leaned down, his eyes roaming across your face, whilst you found your own gaze doing the same. 

Your heartbeat seemed to drum harder and faster against your chest, your lungs trying to find an even pace to breathe at. 

But you weren’t the only one struggling with that. 

Because Logan’s breathing had become laboured as he looked at you, wanting the space between you both to be further so he could think clearer and not do something you both could regret, but at the same time, for you to be closer to him so he could cross that line. 

You swallowed thickly, trying your best to keep your gaze from his lips. 

You were failing. 

“Logan…”

“Y/n…”

The hand you had pressed against his chest slid up his chest before you took a wad of the loose fabric by his collar in your hands, holding him closer, begging for that line to be crossed. Just as you did so, his own hand pushed the hair from beside your face, his hand gripping onto the space between your neck and your shoulder. Maybe if he forced himself, he wouldn’t move his hand and he wouldn’t cross that line. 

“Alright, where are you two?”

You and Logan stilled. “Maybe if we’re quiet…”

Rogue started walking around. “You wouldn’t have gone to bed yet. Where are you? Oh, come on. I saw you both in the restaurant.”

You and Logan sighed and he closed his eyes, leaning a little further into you. You didn’t want him to leave. 

“Busted.”

Slowly, you and Logan came out from your hiding spot and Rogue spun around her heels. “There you both are.”

“Look, before you yell, you need to know something.”

Rogue crossed her arms, waiting. 

“It was Y/n’s idea.”

“Logan.”

But rather than yell, Rogue laughed a little. “Why does something tell me that’s a lie?”

Logan shrugged. “It might be part of a lie.”

You gave a sigh. He was hopeless. 

“We just wanted to make sure you were safe. And, if you want to know, we’ve already learnt our lesson.”

“Really?”

Logan nodded in agreement with you. “Just take our word for it.”

“So, how did your date go?”

Rogue smiled. “If you must know, we’re going out again next Saturday. He’s going to take me to the movies and then we’re gonna go bowling.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“It will be,” Rogue said. “So long as you two promise to not follow us this time?”

You crossed a sign over your heart. “I swear.”

Rogue waited for Logan to do the same, and only when you nudged him did he do so. “But I’m dropping you off.”

“Just agree,” you told Rogue. “It’ll be easier on all of us.”

Rogue agreed. “Fine. You can drop me off.”

Not long after that, both yourself and Logan went to bed whilst Rogue walked towards the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before doing the same. 

“Are we being overprotective?”

“She’s just a kid, Y/n. We’re allowed to be.”

Logan walked you to your door, both of you calling goodnight to each other. However, you didn’t fall asleep. 

At least for the first couple of hours. 

Mrs Keller thought you were married. 

Married to the same man you were friends with.

The same friend you had almost kissed. 

The same friend who had almost kissed you. 

By the time you woke up the next morning, you seemed to be the only one awake. It was no surprise though, considering you were still three hours off the clock having a one at the beginning of it. 

“Morning.”

You jumped a little when you heard a voice before you opened your eyes to confirm it was Rogue’s voice who had spoken to you. 

“What are you doing up? It’s 7 am. And a Sunday.”

Rogue gave a smile. “Could ask you the same thing.” Rogue told you. “Figured you’d be wrapped in Logan’s arms right now.”

Your back was to her as you opened up one of the doors to the fridge, however became completely still and forgot why you’d opened the damn thing in the first place. 

“What?”

Turning around, you saw Rogue and her smirk, sip at her coffee. 

“I saw you and Logan last night.”

Beside the bookcase? 

“At the restaurant?” Rogue was confused by the more than panicked look on your face. She had said she saw you both, when she got home last night, didn’t she. “You and Logan were sat at the table by the window?”

“Oh…” You felt your heart leave the vice you’d just locked it in. “Oh, yeah.”

Rogue smiled again. “Looked pretty cosy if you ask me.”

“Good job no one’s asking you.”

Milk. That’s why you opened the fridge. 

Taking the carton out, you closed it behind you and reached for a bowl and some cereal. 

“All snuggled up together, his arm around you. I was pretty sure he would have kissed you if the waiter didn’t interrupt. Though, if he didn’t, maybe you would have done more than kiss at that table.”

“Rogue!”

She laughed. “What? Oh, come on. I’ve seen the way you look at each other. Seen the way he looks at you.”

She mumbled that last sentence into her coffee cup leaving you questioned just exactly what she meant by it. 

“It’s too early in the morning for this,” you grumbled to yourself, replacing the cereal box in the cabinet. 

“You could always go back to bed.” Rogue offered. “Or go and see if Logan wants some company.”

You turned around a slightly shocked, slightly disgusted look on your face. “Oh my god.”

“I’m kidding.” Rogue laughed out. “Kinda.”

“When did you grow up?” You asked out loud, coming to the daily realisation that Rogue wasn’t the little kid you had first met when she arrived at the school but was, in fact, very quickly on her way to becoming a full grown woman. After all, she had started taking on a small time tutoring job and she was still a couple months away from graduation. 

The rest of the day went smoothly. Well…as smooth as it could go when you were having a constant internal flashback to the night before. Mrs Keller and what she thought you and Logan were doing, it almost happening beside the bookcase, and then you walked in on him in his bathroom. 

He had said it was safe for you to come inside, and you had happened to see him shirtless a couple of times. Though never in sync with a time when at least two people on the planet thought you were married, another one was trying to convince you she saw, at the very least, something similar to what the others had and the two minutes spent beside the bookcase which you had thought about over and over. 

“Hank is asking if you want corn or peas.” You told Logan as you walked inside, trying your best not to yell or scream out loud and retreat away. 

“Either is fine. You okay?”

You snapped your eyes back to Logan’s face. “Hm? Oh, yeah. Fine. Have you talked to Rogue?”

“Not today,” he replied. “Why? Should I have done?”

You couldn’t help but shudder. “No. That kid is scary.”

You heard Logan laugh as you closed the door a little as you headed back out. 

“Hey, wait.”

You opened the door again, holding onto the frame for dear life. “Yeah?”

“About last night…”

“What about last night?” You tried your best to remain as casual as possible, though it didn’t help when you remembered Logan was practically a walking lie detector. 

He could hear your heartbeat. 

And it was only getting faster. 

You told yourself to calm down. 

It was only a question. 

A big question. 

That he hadn’t finished. 

Was he going to tell you to forget about it? Was he going to pretend it didn’t happen? Did it happen? Had you made the entire thing up? Was the line that you thought had blurred for a second been completely in bold this entire time and hadn’t shifted?

“Thanks…for coming with me…I know you would have gone anyway. But, I’m glad you didn’t try to stop me.”

You smirked a little. “Logan, you’re made of metal. The only practical way I could have is if I owned an industrial magnet.”

Logan chuckled a little. “Still. I’m glad you came. It’s nice to know the kid’s not alone, you know?”

You nodded. “I know. Anyway, I should probably…”

“Yeah, yeah. I, uh, I’ll meet you down there.”

You nodded, letting your eyes take a mental picture of Logan before you shut the door again and headed downstairs and back into the kitchen. 

“He said either.”

Hank nodded and turned back to the stove. 

“You were up there for a while,” Rogue appeared by your side. “And you look a little flushed.”

You turned your head to look at her and glared. ��I do not.”

“You do look a little red in the cheeks, Y/n.” Hank added from where he was standing, busying himself by the stove. 

“Maybe I’m coming down with something.” You pressed your hands to your cheeks to hide them. 

Rogue stood in front of you and pressed the back of her hand to your head. “You don’t feel hot, maybe- Oh, hey Logan!”

Rogue broke out into a wide grin.

Logan was a little shocked by Rogue’s enthusiasm. “Hey, kid.”

“Come here, does Y/n feel hot to you? She’s looking a little flushed.”

“Rogue.” You warned under your breath. But she just smiled and pulled Logan over where her hand was replaced by Logan’s. 

And there it was again. 

That same…difference. 

Just like when you stood in front of him when you both got back, before you hid beside the bookcase. 

“N-no. She feels…she feels okay.”

Rogue looked back at Hank who was trying his best to hide his smile. “Why, Logan, you’re looking a little flushed yourself.”

Logan quickly stepped back, as did you. Only, you fell into the counter and gripped onto it for dear life. 

You looked down at the floor. 

“Maybe you’re coming down with something, too. I hope it’s not catching.”

Logan shook his head. “I can’t get sick.”

Hank hummed. “Must be something else then.”

“Must be.” Logan’s voice was quiet as he looked at you and found you looking back. 

Though you couldn’t look for too long, feeling your cheeks heat up again. 

“I better-”

“Yeah, I’m gonna-”

Both yourself and Logan headed in opposite directions. Yourself out of the kitchen the way you came in, and Logan out through the back door and into the gardens. 

Eventually, you made it to your room and locked your door before moving over to the mirror. You did look flushed. Even more so when your brain projected the feeling of Logan’s hands on you from the night before, as well as the look on his face from thirty seconds ago. 

By the time dinner rolled around, yourself and Logan tried to keep your distance until you both suddenly found yourself seated beside each other, taking one look at each other and then taking a large gulp of your drink. 

Your main suspect for the forced seating arrangement was Rogue. She had been the one to lay out the cards. Three days previous, you were sure you had been sat beside her and Storm. 

And when you looked over to her and found her smiling in your direction, you had your confirmed culprit. 

For most of the night, you were kept distracted by the stories being told by everyone as you all caught up with one another from the past couple of months or so. 

It was a few days until things felt normal between you and Logan. At least to the extent where you didn’t feel yourself visibly flush at the sight of him. 

And everything seemed normal. 

Until Saturday. 

You had already left - Logan being the only one to know where you actually were heading off to. 

“Okay, but Logan, you’re not allowed to get out of the car.” Rogue told him. “You’re just dropping me off. And you’re not allowed to come into the movie theatre, either.”

“What if I want to see a movie?”

“Not tonight, you’re not.” Rogue told him. “I like this guy, okay. And I think having The Wolverine sat behind us both isn’t going to make things easier.”

Logan sighed. “Okay, fine. I won’t come into the movie theatre.”

“Promise?” 

Logan nodded, and crossed his heart. “Promise.”

“And you can’t send Y/n in, either.”

“Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. She’s busy.”

“Let me guess, on a date at the movie theatre?”

Logan held back his smirk. “No, smartass. She’s at a book club. But you can’t tell the others. She doesn’t want them to know.”

“Y/n’s part of a book club?”

Logan nodded and stifled a laugh as he flicked on his indicator and turned down a side street. “Yeah, it shocked me too.”

“You wouldn’t happen to be the mysterious husband they’re all talking about?”

As a red light came on, Logan slammed on his breaks a little too hard. “What? How would you know about-”

“Y/n took me to the library. There were a load of women looking at her. She was outside but when I asked her about it she said it was nothing. But I definitely heard them talking about her being married.”

Logan looked back to the road. 

“Logan?”

“Yeah.”

“It's green.”

A car behind him honked and Logan quickly got moving, all the while feeling Rogue’s eyes on him. 

“Oh, my god.” Rogue smiled and turned back to the road in disbelief. 

“What?” 

Logan was beginning to feel a little panicked. Though he didn’t quite know why. 

“You are him.” Rogue stated. “Oh, my god. Is this what you meant by ‘learning your lesson’? Did something finally happen?”

Logan was confused. “Finally? What do you mean finally?”

“I mean finally.” Rogue repeated. “Jesus, Logan. Have you not seen the way you look at her? How she looks at you?”

“How she looks at me?” Logan questioned. 

Since when did driving Rogue to her second date become a time for confessions?

“Hank was right, you both really are as bad as each other.”

Logan had to shake his head. “Wait, Hank? Beast Hank?”

Rogue could help but laugh. 

For months Rogue had watched Logan and yourself get close to each other. She had to watch as the looks Logan gave you went from untrusted, to familiar, to friendly to…everything after the fact of trust. Not only could you see it in his eyes that he trusted you, but you could also see what he was too scared to admit to himself. 

He was in love with you. 

And had been for quite some time. 

Of course, Rogue had only noticed this in the last couple of months. 

Except, when talking with Hank as he cooked and she mostly watched and snacked on the parts he wasn’t using for the main meals, she realised it had been going on for years. 

How you had looked at Logan. Intrigue, civil, uncharted, familiar, friendly, safe and,,,love. 

And apparently Hank hadn’t been the only one in agony watching both of you. According to him, so were the rest of the team. 

They were all just surprised nothing had actually happened yet. 

“W-why are you laughing?” Logan’s gaze kept flicking from the passenger seat beside him to the road ahead until he finally pulled up outside the movie theatre. 

“Because you’re both idiots.”

Logan didn’t look entirely amused. “Thanks, kid.”

“Look, I could tell you but…you need to work this one out for yourself. Thanks for dropping me off.”

As Rogue stepped out of the car, she closed the door and walked away. However, a few paces from the car she stopped and turned back around. 

“Fuck it, I’m just gonna tell you.” 

Leaning back inside the car, Logan looked back at her. 

“You love her. And she loves you.” Rogue told him. “You’ve both loved each other for a long time and it’s about time you both do something about it before time passes and you’re both too chicken shit to do something about it. There is a reason everyone already thinks you're a couple, and that’s because when neither of you are thinking, you both act like it anyway. You should really see the way you look at each other, Lo. I hope I can find that some day, too. It’s rare. Don’t let it slip past you. Either of you.”

Rogue watched as Logan soaked in all of her words and then settled back behind the steering wheel. 

Reaching into her bag, Rogue pulled out a book. “This was on the counter when I came downstairs.”

Logan took it from her. It was a new book. The new book you would be discussing about. Tonight. 

“Figured she might need that. Maybe you can drop it off with her?”

Logan looked at Rogue and gave a smile. “Thanks, kid.”

Rogue shrugged. “Just mention me during your wedding speech.”

Shutting the car door, Rogue watched as Logan pulled out of his parking spot and drove down the street, turning the corner to head towards the address you had given him earlier that week. 

“Just in case you or Rogue needs me.” You had told him. 

Pulling up outside the house, KELLER written on the mailbox, Logan turned off the engine, took the book from the passenger seat and headed up the porch steps and knocked on the screen door. 

From inside he heard laughing before a familiar face opened up the door. 

“Oh, my. Logan, isn’t it?”

Logan nodded, trying his best to hide the flush on his cheeks. “Mrs Keller. I’m hoping Y/n is here. She left her book and I thought-”

Mrs Keller gave a wide smile and pushed open the screen door for him to come in. “Of course. The more the merrier. Your wife will be happy to see you, I’m sure. Follow me.”

As he did so, Logan soon found himself entering a second living room where around a dozen people were sitting in somewhat of a circle, either on the sofas or on the floor. 

“Look who’s come for a surprise visit!” Mrs Keller announced. 

Everyone turned with welcoming smiles and slightly shocked expressions. 

“Logan.” You weren’t expecting to see him. 

“Hey,” Logan breathed with a smile at seeing you. “Rogue. She picked up your book and I thought you might need it.”

You stood and took it from him softly. “Thanks.”

“Well, honey? Aren’t you going to give him a proper hello?”

Suddenly you and Logan felt a dozen pairs of eyes on you both and with a slight awkwardness, you leant up and kissed his cheek. 

“Oh, come on. Girls, I tell you. Last week they were like two teenagers.”

You felt your cheeks go bright red and you hid your face with the cover of your book. The only comfort was Logan’s hand that hadn’t left your hip since you stepped into him to kiss his cheek. 

“Oh, Logan, please. Will you stay?”

Logan looked around the room. It was the first time he understood the expression “Feeling like you were going to be eaten alive.”

“No, no. This is…your thing. I don’t want to intrude-”

“Nonsense! Besides, we’ve been dying to know more about our little mystery.” Mrs Keller said with nothing but affection. 

“Who knew mystery could have so much romance?” 

Logan turned to where the voice came from and by your reaction, he gauged the voice belonged to Prissy. Who’s name he would soon learn was Pricilla. 

“I’d love to.” Logan replied, looking back to Mrs Keller. 

“Wonderful!” She clapped her hands together and got comfortable in her chair. “Oh, Darwin, honey, come and sit by me so the lovebirds can sit together.”

The sofa in which Darwin had been sitting was as big as a seat and a half. So, when Logan did finally sit down, you were practically sitting on his lap, the only comfortable position you could find yourself in was tucked in by his side, your legs over his whilst his hand held your knees on his thighs. 

Thankfully, your back was supported by the arm of the chair, but either way you felt yourself melt into Logan’s side, his body heat warming you. The fire Mrs Keller had on in the hearth was enough to heat the room but there was just something about Logan’s warmth that made it…different. 

“Oh, you two just make the most adorable couple.” Mrs Keller smiled, watching the pair of you, noticing the smiles you gave each other as you both finally got comfortable in being so close to one another. “Like no one else is in the room.” 

Logan heard Rogue’s words echo inside of his head. 

She was right. 

“Oh, you have to tell us how you met? Please.” Daisy asked from the floor beside the coffee table. 

Prissy coughed. “Aren’t we more interested in discussing this week’s book?”

A chorus of “No” sounded out. 

With a shlump, Prissy sat back with a noise stuck at the back of her throat. 

“Oh, tell us how you met!” Darwin called out. “Start at the very beginning.”

“You know it’s gonna be a good story when they look at each other like that.” Daisy added on. 

Prissy leaned forward. “You know, if you want a good love story, I can always tell you about how me and my darling husband met.”

Dawin groaned. Loudly. “We already know your story, Pricilla.”

“God knows we’ve heard it enough,” Mrs Keller mumbled. 

“We want a new story and we want to hear about Y/n and Logan.”

You looked at Logan and Logan looked back. Something seemed different about him. It was almost like something was gleaming inside of him. You just couldn’t figure out what. Or why. 

But you loved seeing a new side of him. 

There was just something that made your stomach flip and your heart grow when Logan showed you another side of him. A side he didn’t let people see that often. Sometimes a side he wouldn’t let himself see. 

“We met at work.” Logan told them. 

“Yeah, he nearly bulldozed me in the Professor’s office.”

“I did not.”

“You did.” You countered. “I almost got a concussion from how hard you opened up that door.”

“You weren’t even near the door.”

“No, because I jumped out of the way when you did.”

Mrs Keller smiled. “Let me guess, you didn’t get off on the right foot?”

You shrugged. “Not particularly.”

“It took time…about six months before we had a real conversation. And even then it took time.”

Mrs Keller smiled with a knowing look. “The best ones always do.”

Over the next two hours, you and Logan were asked question after question. Most of them scolding you for not mentioning or bringing Logan to the book meetings sooner so they could all meet him. 

Eventually, you did get onto the book you had all read. Prissy spent most of the time talking about the book and Logan got to witness first how she took the descriptions of a bird and placed the conversation back on her husband and what they had done during the week. 

The first time, Logan could see it almost as sweet. After that it just got tedious. 

But he couldn’t care. Not when he felt you fall into his side, allowing for his arm to come around your back, his hand fanned out across the exposed skin from your hip where your t-shirt had come untucked from your jeans. 

As the fire in the hearth settled into a constant warmth, people started to get more relaxed and cosier, pulling up blankets, putting on Mrs Keller’s complimentary cosy socks. 

Apparently she had a pair for everyone. 

“Let me go and get some more snacks and then we can talk about chapter fifteen.” Mrs Keller gave a small gasp. “I didn’t see it coming.”

But you shot to your feet. “No, you sit down. Let me.”

“Oh, thank you, dear.”

Sitting back down, Logan stood with you and walked into the kitchen with you. 

For a moment, you both talked about the book club and everything that had just happened before a comfortable lul came and you both realised you had to talk about the elephant in the room. 

“We need to talk.” Logan told you. 

“Do we?”

“Rogue told me something and it’s been on my mind ever since. And I can’t stop thinking how much she might be right.”

You poured some pretzels from the jar into a section of the dish. “Really? It must be bad if you’re agreeing with her.”

“Can you just…look at me for a second?”

You stopped pouring the snacks and looked at Logan, only for him to grab your hands and hold them in his. Running his thumbs over your knuckles, you forced yourself out of your thoughts and back to focusing on the real Logan in front of you. 

“I think I’ve known it for a while, I just don’t think I’ve been able to let myself know it because, if I do…look, I’ve lost a lot of people.”

He was scaring you now. 

“Logan, what’s going on?”

“I’ve lost a lot of people,” he finally looked you in the eye. “But I’ve come to realise you are not someone I can lose, Y/n. I don’t want to lose you. But if I don’t tell you something now, there might be a day when I could still lose you anyway.”

“Logan, you’re scaring me. Has something happened? What did Rogue say to you? I told you not to talk to her. That kid can be scary.”

Logan chuckled at that. It was true. Especially more recently. Very recently, in fact. 

“I’m in love with you, Y/n.”

You felt yourself falter and stiffen at his words. 

“You are the person I trust the most in this world, and I don’t say that lightly. I trust you and I love you. But I can’t lose you. So…” Logan took a breath. “Please tell me if I’m going to lose you because of this, because I don’t want to. I don’t want to ever lose you. Especially over something that I’ve done.”

“You…you love me?” You questioned. “Logan…how…when…Logan, you can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you…you just can’t.” 

You were in shock and disbelief. “I’m not someone you fall in love with.”

“Little late for that.”

“I’m being serious.” Pulling your hands from his, you walked away for a second. You needed space. You needed to breathe. You needed…you needed…

“So am I.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “Logan…I…you…we…we don’t…”

“We don’t…what?” Logan asked you. 

“We don’t fit, Logan. We…we spent years building…us. Don’t you think that couples tend to know- if not instantly, a little sooner than us?”

“Y/n. I love you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I love you.”

Logan started walking closer to you, repeating his words with every step. 

“Logan, you don’t.”

Taking you by the shoulders, he looked you in the eyes. “Yes, I do. And…I’d wager to say you feel the same, too.”

“Logan…”

“Just listen to me.” Logan begged. “Please.”

And so you did. 

“Coming in here to tell you this? I didn’t expect you to tell me the same. I still don’t. I get you’re scared. Hell, I’m terrified. But the only thing that is keeping me from running out of that door is you. I know you, Y/n. And you know me, so when I stand here telling you that I love you, you know I’m not lying. You know that you are the only person I cannot lie to. I respect you too much to do that.” 

Logan continued. 

“But just now…you said ‘us’. And after what almost happened the other night and what happened in the kitchen with Hank…hell, even back there with the Town Gossip Board…”

Logan studied your face for a moment. You were fighting back tears, white knuckling the countertop beside you both.

“I can’t lose you, Y/n. So, please, tell me now. Just answer me this and if you want me to walk away I will. Do you love me?”

“Logan…”

Logan’s grip on you tightened for a moment as he bit his lip saying your name. He was desperate for an answer, wishing for you to say yes. For you to tell him not to walk away. 

He couldn’t lose you…but maybe he already had. 

“Please…” His voice broke. “Please.”

And then you broke. 

“Of course I love you.”

Pulling him in by his collar, you held your other hand against his face before kissing him. It wasn’t soft or gentle. It was full of desperate and an outburst of emotion that you couldn’t put into words. You could only hope he knew what you meant by your kiss. 

Almost instantly you felt his hands come to your waist before he pushed against you, kissing you back, allowing his arms to snake up and around your back, holding you flush against his chest. All the while, his lips caught yours once more after half a breath. 

Your tears dried up and your hand fell to Logan’s side as he turned you, your ass bumping against the lower counter in the kitchen. A low groan came from the back of Logan’s throat as your hand dipped under his t-shirt and your fingers raked across his skin and up the side of his torso. 

However, just as Logan was about to lift you onto the counter, you both heard a voice call out from the living room. 

“Did you manage to find the pretzels? They’re in the cabinet above the stove!”

You and Logan pulled away, breathless. With his hands tangled in your hair and your forehead pressed against his, Logan forced a swallow, his cheeks heating as he smiled, still feeling your hand on his skin. 

“Yeah, we’ve got em’!” Logan called out. “We’ll be there in a second.”

You let out a small laugh, as did Logan. 

“How long have you got left here?”

You turned your head to look at the rustic clock above the kitchen dresser. “About an hour.”

“Make it 45?”

“50.” You gave it as an offer. “I still want to find out what they thought about Chapter twenty two.”

Almost out of arm's reach, Logan pulled you back. “Hey.”

“What?” You asked, allowing yourself to fall back into him. 

Looking at you, Logan smiled before brushing the hair from your face and leaving you with a kiss that left you a little stunned and dizzy in the best way imaginable. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Wait.” Logan said once more, before pulling you back. You laughed a little. 

“If we spend any more time in here, Mrs Keller is going to think we’re about to defile her kitchen.”

“We almost did,” Logan smirked watching your face heat before he started fixing your hair and your top. 

And you did the same with him. 

Finally walking back into the living room with the snacks, you and Logan sat back down together, your legs draped over his lap all the while your fingers subtly played with the ends of his hair, allowing your nails to run up and down the back of his neck every once in a while that had him shifting in his seat. 

You were out of there within forty minutes. 

But not before Mrs Keller gave Logan his own pair of cosy socks. 

“Yellow and blue,” she told him. “For some reason, they speak to me. They’re yours. You’re an honorary member. Feel free to drop in any session. We’d love to hear more about you two.”

Both yourself and Logan smiled before walking back to the car where he opened up the door for you before walking around and getting into the driver's seat. 

It took all of a month before everyone found out you and Logan had finally come together. Rogue and Hank seemed the most relieved that something had finally snapped between you two.

You both spent most mornings and nights tangled in each other’s arms, finally free to admit the truth to each other. 

You had loved Logan for a long time. And he had loved you just as long. 

Neither of you planned on stopping that any time soon. 

[snoopyearss]

When jjk characters call you ‘clingy’

Feat. crybaby-ish!reader

Gojo, geto, toji

Cw: hurt, guilt, angst (if you squint)

This is inspiration from a mini series i read a few days ago by user @fumekara. It was so good, I love me some angst to hurt/comfort.

But i also wrote this from personal experience too, my bad yall i treat this like my own personal diary

Anyway, enjoy!

Satoru Gojo

He was pissed. He doesn’t typically show it much, but when he does, he gets kind of scary. He’s more quiet, his voice gets deeper, and his whole body language just shifts. So when the higher-ups piss him off after a very long meeting, the last thing he needs is someone to pounce on him. He usually loves it when you greet him at the door when you’re home for work. But today, he just wanted to strip off his clothes and hop into bed.

Gojo huffs as he leaves the elevator of your shared apartment and grabs his keys from his pocket to unlock the door. As he opens the door, he sees you in the kitchen grabbing ingredients for dinner. “Hi baby,” You softly greeted him. “Hey.” was all he said back. It confused you for a second because he’s never greeted you like that before.

“Is everything okay?” You walk up to him to try to kiss him on his cheek. “God- Y/n, please.” He grumbled, walking right past you and placing his briefcase on the table. “I’m just trying to help,” you defended, walking up to take his coat off for him. “At least let me take your coat-” That’s when he snapped. Something he’s never done to you before. “Y/n, I fuckin’ got it! Geez, you’re so fucking clingy!” He aggressively shrugged your hands off his shoulder. It scared you a bit, to see him so angry at you. You were confused, all you wanted to do was make him feel better. Were you really that clingy?

“I-I’m sorry.” your voice came out shaky and defeated. Hearing how small your voice sounded in response to him lashing out made Satoru’s heart shatter into thousands of pieces. He wanted to turn around and apologize, but the words weren’t coming out. By the time he turned to face you, Your back was already facing him, preparing dinner for the both of you as tears rolled down your face.

Suguru Geto

It was 2 weeks after Suguru deflected. 2 weeks since he committed mass murder in that village. 2 weeks since he left Satoru, Shoko, and the others. It was weighing on him and you could tell. Nothing but him, his two adopted girls, a few people who believed in his cause, and you.

You promised him you would go wherever he would go, and he was so grateful for it. He loves you deeply and would do anything for you. But some days just threw everything on him at one time, today was one of those days. Monkeys non-sorcerers begging him to exercise curses left and right, Nanako and Mimiko begging him to take them shopping, missing payments from those begging for his service. It was all too much. And the guilt was eating away at him.

He genuinely wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying and it annoyed him how much talking you were doing in his ear at that moment. You were both sitting outside watching the two girls play in the yard. “Y/n,” He interrupted you. “Don’t you have something better to do than to just bother me?” He sighed sounding so condescending. “What do you mean?”

“Must you always cling to me? Isn’t there something else you can do besides following me everywhere I go, at all times of the day?!” His voice raised a bit as if he was talking to a non-sorcerer. “I didn’t realize I was. I was only trying to tell you about what me and the girls did today,” You defended. “You’re always so busy, I rarely get to see you anymore.”

“Yeah, because you’re always underneath me. Sometimes-” He stopped mid-sentence because of the saddened look on your face. His eyes softened a bit. “Sometimes I just need my space.” He sighed. You only nodded and started to walk back inside. “Ok, I understand.” Your voice cracked. Leaving Suguru alone to think about what he had just said to you. As if he didn’t feel guilt then, he definitely feels guilt now.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji was a bit frustrated today. He was cheated out of his money after doing a side job, the bet he placed on the race he kept constantly telling you about fell through, leaving him with zero, and to top it all off, the child support payment was coming up. You being an empath and knowing your boyfriend so well, you wanted to help him any way you could.

He was sitting in the chair by the island in the kitchen with his fingers combing through his hair. He was on the phone with multiple people at once, trying to solve his money issues. “Shiu, you guaranteed me way more money than this! How am I supposed to cover this months child support with this amount?!” You walked up to where he was, wondering what all the commotion was about. “Baby?” You softly called out. You could hear Shiu on the other line trying to calm him down and explain the situation.

“That sounds like a bunch of bull and you know it Shiu, you better have my money by next week thursday or else I’m taking it myself.” He grumbled and hung up the phone. “Baby,” You gently placed a hand on his broad shoulder.

“What, Y/n.” He sternly said. You merely blinked a few times. “I was just checking to see if you were okay. What’s with the attitude?”

“I’m fuckin’ frustrated okay? Please leave. You aren’t helping right now.” He waved you off.

“I barely did anything, I just wanted to know if you needed help with anything-”

“Jesus, I said enough! I don’t need your help. Fuck, you’re so clingy.” His voice booming caused you to remove your hand from his shoulder in fear. Seeing your reaction caused him to think about what he said and how he said it. The last think he wanted to do was scare you. He wanted you to feel safe around him. But with the way you jumped at how he raised his voice, it saddened him a bit.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” He was cut off by the sound of his child wailing in the background. “I’ll take care of it.” You said in the smallest voice, not even leaving him time to protest against it and apologize.

“Fuck.”

Part 2